Talking lobsters

🦩 “Don’t Trust the Lobster” 🦞

by Pink Flamingo, still hungry

At Café Plume, where mornings gleam,

I sipped my tea and chased a dream.

My toast was golden, fruit divine

A breakfast fit for wings like mine.

Then came a lobster, smooth and sly,

With compliments and crustacean eye.

He charmed his way with tales and flair,

And Pink, too kind, said “Take a chair.”

He spoke of tides and gourmet brine,

Of kelp soufflé and sea-salt wine.

But while I laughed and took a sip

My breakfast vanished from his grip.

No sorry glance, no crustacean shame,

Just crumbs and clawprints in his name.

So heed me now, from reef to dune:

Don’t trust a lobster before noon.

Maharaja Blues