A comment on pescetarial consumption in The Old Town.

The Shellfish are coming.
Slowly from the breaking surf
their glistening bounties did quiver and lurch
Until forth upon the moistened sand
the chieftain of  husks came to land
"I am your harbinger of Doom" he said
Bow before me at last to avoid your death"
For as the sun rises on a hot summer's day
our cockle shacks bustle in a murderous way
whilst the benches outside heave with hungry pawns
a pint of whelks, an oyster or a small pot of prawns?
And when the oral corrosion so requisite is complete
the bloody carcasses of their brethren litter the street
Such careless disregard for actual digestive need
and instead insatiable ordering of fish for our greed.
So, perhaps it is no surprise, this war on mankind?
This genocidal retort, seeding plans in their mind
It isn't too late to change the course of our path
to consider our greed and the ocean's aftermath