letra de crab lawn - simon bookish
standing on the gravelled approach to a country manor, looking out over the verdant lawn. i find my body has become infested with lice-type insects. they crawl all over me, but i am neither panicked nor disgusted
the lice are growing very rapidly and after a while they have become so large and heavy that they can no longer cling to me and fall off onto the lawn. they continue to grow, eventually becoming bona fide crabs, in the marine sense of the word. although they have the deep orange-red colour of cooked crabs, they are very much alive, several hundred of them, scuttling around my feet. i realise that i should tread on them all, and do so, one by one. as i stamp on each crab, it explodes in a spurt of…
‘toffee sauce’
after a while they are all dead and the lawn is bit of a mess
i feel neither happy nor sad
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