Prawn Cocktail (by Jim Masson).
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On lettuce bed you lie prostrate, with Marie Rose and tomato, lemon twisted on the rim. Pale, lifeless tissue… tasteless, Speckled with paprika To Animate your flesh. Now soft voices whispering, with chamber music, gentle through muted light In the stillness of the summer’s eve – Tuxedo and black dress cut low uniform and hungry. Chaos of the universe, suspended, While we drink hock and toast with chinking glasses. Far is the clamour of the seabed – the crunching of tiny bones, and mass frenzy of feeding, Heard only a hundred fathom deep – an army of tiny prawns, monsters, Killing for their supper. [caption id="attachment_45621" align="aligncenter" width="560"]
Prawns[/caption]
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