the fifth season: epilogue


After parts three, two, one, a flashback to the home of the crayfish on their reformed moon.

We live in a concrete paradise,
we must show the galaxy,
attract discerning tourists
and credit cards.

The crayfish debated, argued, disagreed
and finally hired consultants—
humanoids, the cheapest they could find,
whose report confirmed
cement would never go out of fashion,
but mentioned that
a key ingredient was lacking
for the professional turista,
who understands
that nature’s true appreciation
necessitates indoor seating:

coffee shops.


I can’t work this infernal machine,
pick up a cup or pour the milk.
Although we crayfish are quite cute,
our appendages finish in points.
We need arms with pincers.
Let’s invite the lobsters
to join us.

But lobsters are our mortal enemies.

José, it’s time
to leave the past behind.


Time discretely passes, now
Célia and an unnamed human
wait patiently and not
at a table with a sea view,
sealed in weather resistant blue.

The waiter scuttles
round the broken crockery,
he cracks the saucer
and another latté tumbles.

How long have you been working here?

A year or such,
not too many customers,
the crayfish do a lot of cleaning up.

The human sniffles derisively.

They’re having issues serving coffee,
Célia comments with a Mona Lisa smile,
You don’t have a planet.

Lobsters and crayfish confuse me, especially when they speak quickly. In Australia, what we sometimes call crayfish and sometimes call lobsters (saltwater) have no pincers.

concrete fish, detail above.

27 thoughts on “the fifth season: epilogue

    • Thanks Peter. Wow, fascinating, I didn’t know about that. I hope we’re talking DNA, I’m thinking Lord Howe Jurassic Park. I can already picture them, they’ll be more “power pole insects.” 😃


  1. A coffee-challenged planet?? There’d be less than a dozen human inhabitants methinks. And I’d be one. I think most of the “civilized” world runs on the brew, but strangely enough I’ve never aquired the habit. Just some cafe con leche as a kid. I’ve enjoyed your imaginative crayfish series. Love the artwork. That iridiscent fishie seems to be casting a sideways glance.

    Liked by 1 person

    • Not acquiring the addiction is a good thing. I had it bad in Brazil, a terrifying number of cups per day (great coffee though). Since then, up and down, currently too much. Hopefully the crustaceans have got their act together by now. 🙂

      Thanks BG. You’re right, its eye is following me around the room. It wants me to give up sushi. 😄

      Liked by 1 person

  2. I am supposedly a writer but it is always difficult for me to comment on other people’s writing. I feel inadequate and banal. Read your Fifth Season poems and felt transported (hmmm…). It was like hearing Lucy in the Sky with Diamonds the first time: your choice of imagery, arrangement of words, use of humor and seriousness, and, of course, the illustrations. Thank you for the experience! BTW, I thought crayfish are shrimp but that’s ridiculous since the “latter” have no pincers…

    Liked by 1 person

    • Clarissa, you most definitely are not inadequate and banal, you are the opposite. I have to admit I rarely read back over my own stuff, because when I do, I mostly think, “I don’t like that. Why did I write that?”

      Thank you so much for comparing with the iconic “Lucy,” I really appreciate your feedback on the entire set–it’s the first time I’ve tried something like that. Glad you enjoyed the trip. 😄

      Yes, what we call “prawns” here have no pincers, and apparently what we call “crayfish” (saltwater) have a lot of different names, like “rock lobster.” (I couldn’t resist a B-52s reference.)

      Liked by 1 person

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