Ode to Crawfish

A forty pound colony of Louisiana
crawfish just arrived
via FedEx in a white, styrofoam Mayflower.

JD spreads the unsuspecting pilgrims
on the back porch of this East Texas lake house.
He cleans them methodically.

As he sprays, the crawfish writhe and spin;
they raise their red claws to the sky.

In poses of surrender or exhaltation, they are washed
and gathered and reboxed in preparation
for their ten gallon death.

Even now, as JD fills the pot with
water, the crawfish reach and stretch against
the sides fo their styrofoam cell.

Soon they will be moved by handfuls into
a spicy pyre where they will be come red and
motionless.

We will eat them with corn, potatoes,
a healthy share of local beer, and a
conversation.

I hope we speak of democracy, peace,
honor, or love- those most dangerous,
most difficult subjects- those subjects
worthy of such a sacrifice.