Bonus Wednesday

I'm avoiding doing something else, so I will continue with more food and disturbing poetry.

Maybe the writer shouldn't be sleeping on an ebi sushi.  I can't say that it would be my first choice for a pillow.

 

Heads

  4 AM and Paris is finally quiet, but
  for a low hum outside, harmonious
  and growing in volume.
   
  I swing open the windows
  to a buzzing serenade.
  From the fifth floor
  it's hard to tell, but I
  think it's a gathering
  of the shrimp and fish
  heads I left staring
  from my plate.
   
  They seem to want something.