Poetry from 2001.

[matt_doyle]

Unedited. Because editing this would bring no-one any joy.

The Lobster

Inside my skin a lobster is tearing me apart
his red-boiled pincers clasp the ventricle of my heart
His nefarious wishes are carried by radio waves
direct to my brain, and however depraved
they seem, I am obliged
to follow the will of the lobster that rules my life.

Comments

[esc-azkaban.livejournal.com]

Hmm ... reminds me of another poem you wrote, actually. You poor thing.

[matt_doyle]

XD What was the other poem?

[tulina.livejournal.com]

Is the lobster a phalic symbol? :o

[matt_doyle]

Not intentionally!