The Shallow End of the Boiling Pot

by Fred Aiken

total darkness
makes lobsters happy as they boil in plasma
anxiously awaiting butter logs stacking
up along the edges of existence;
poured down the side until cleanliness
means something akin to tastiness

but miracles are for the blind
blistering in an enchanted quagmire planned out on a napkin and thrown out, with prejudice