Photo Art by Michael Dooley
Hurricane Fiona, N.S.
After the storm has come, after the ocean
and rain have conspired to turn your front
yard into a river, and your backyard too,
remember, when the flood recedes, if you're
left with lobsters on your lawn or in your bushes,
they don't belong to you.
They aren't nature's conciliatory gifts, randomly
or purposefully sent your way.
The live ones—nobody wants the dead, but,
really, this applies to them too—are just
accidental scatterings dropped from the
gaping mouth of your government's
giant loot bag—and many know by now,
and many are starting to know,
they don't really want to share that sugar.
So, skip the fine and do as they
got caught wanting to say: #leavethemthere.
You couldn't cook them anyway
with your power out and no propane to start an
outdoor boil. Go to the park instead—it's open again—
and sit and wait for your phone
to come on so you can put in your call.
Eventually someone might call you back
about fixing your broken house.
