K LANGE – “CRABS” @WANPOETRY (UAF TEAM SLAM 19)


– No one ever wants to
talk about the crabs. They think we are just ugly sea spiders who are good for nothing
but snacks like for example, the crab legs, the crab
boils, the crab corn soup, the crab Rangoon, and of course, the crab ice cream. But we are actually
very powerful creatures. We can live both on land and in water, as long as we keep our
gills wet with one pincher, we can hold the cigarette in the other. Very nice. For two hundred million years, crabs have been the
most badass of sea life! The coconut crab can open the coconut as if he were crushing a skull. Crushing your skull, perhaps. And when the birds come, or the people from Maryland
with their little hammers, and they rip off our claws, we just grow back our clampers. We have two compound eyes and a third eye with psychic powers. (screeching) Voila! These are the reasons
why the crabs survive! And, when the crab finds
love, May through October, they rub their bellies and this is the ritual of love. And the breakups, well sometimes. If there is fighting over
the holes in the rocks, even as rental rates skyrocket, you want a little garage to
build your little sculptures out of sea glass… In this economy? Sometimes, there is fighting over who cleans the hidey-holes – sweeping the sand, the little fish heads – I say I will clean it this
week if you clean it next week, and you do not, ever! Sometimes there is fighting over where to go and get the snacks, like the sponges, the algaes,
the muscles, the protozoa. I give you options and
you do not take them! You like none of them! And then there is fighting over what we will name
our 10,000 children. Tell me one crab you know
who is named Richard! Only invertebrates are named Richard! I disgust! I cannot believe that
I spent all of last way waving my claws at you like a fool, romancing you with my
larger-than-average pinchers, bringing you little gifts
like, maybe, a sea urchin or a cigarette butt from the beach, I was so intriguing. But it is no matter, I still have 156 weeks to be
appreciated for my talents, my beauty, my smoke rings. I did not want it to end like this. I would have popped off a claw
to save you from any bird. But alas! I am the monsoon who will now
rain crabs over the earth. I have built an exoskeleton
around my heart, but my psychic eye can see the future, and I know it is good. (screeching) (cheering)

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