Crawfish Inspired Poetry
And it was red red red. And the seasoned skies brought forth the spiced drops of cayenne upon the pompous curled tails. And the shells, scorned and willing and palates full of glowing charcoal, magmatic orange, the plates are at their faults. And here is the gathering of good folk. And there will be watery eyes and tough husks of dirtied corn and the soft touch of speckled potatoes to our tongues. And we thank the mud and we thank the layered ponds. And the slight push of our fingertips and their simple twists, meaning infinity found within a second. And the red red red of it all. And there will be the last sighs of us and heaved breaths after the last turn and peel, and the closed eyes of us.
- Shome Dasgupta
(originally published in Runaway Dish magazine vol. 2)