A Sonnet

How hard it was to slow down and enter
the world of the mollusk as it opened
a door to let me in the walls gray-red
wet and oozing like breath it took getting
used to the way the floor zigzagged under
my feet there was a guttural rhythmic
music so we danced the mollusk’s dance
is green and moves the way waves move at low
tide barely kissing the shore gentle soft
as a foamy tongue then it was time for
dinner we sat quite formally I was served
such delicacies shark-fin surprise puffs
of anemone canapes shaped like sand
dollars crumbling softly on the tongue

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from Trilobite (there’s always a cephalon)

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By David Hadbawnik 👍