Maybe—
Lobsters are bad people
Reborn without souls,
The guilty amongst us
Who didn’t confess their crimes,
Who refused to atone for their sin,
Who shed their mortal skin
Unrepentant,
Unpunished,
Repurposed,
Ensnared in nets with
Singular intent.
No gods to show them mercy,
No priests to walk the final mile
By their side.
Judgment passed and executed
Without trial,
Without prejudice.
And, maybe—maybe
Knowing this to be true,
We can assuage our guilt
Over boiling them alive
And not deprive
Ourselves the pleasure
Of our palates.