On the Discovery of Fire

You wake up when the coffee starts to perk,
And make up (stories, and your face as well),
Firmly explaining why King Henry fell,
And take up causes: you love social work,
New books, old movies, Kemal Ataturk;
You hate to rake up leaves (because they smell),
Stake up tomato plants — your fingers swell —
And mowing is another job you shirk.

Raw nature is so — well, it's just so raw.
Erect steel buildings, take an airplane ride,
Toast marshmallows, go looking far and wide
For tools more useful than an ass's jaw,
And think about great art, and civil law.
You don't mind homework: you can stay inside.

Something Fishy

I can't make do with sturgeon any more:
If I can't get the lobster, watch your back,
There will be trouble. Get my gunny sack
Filled with crustaceans by the stroke of four
Or my claws will come out. And hold the door,
Don't let it hit me. What a lousy shack
You live in! In an octopus attack
We'll all be dead, and what's this poem for?

I write for all the lovers of snow crab,
The amateurs of seaside frolicking,
The soft-shelled workers learning how to sing,
The scientists abandoned in the lab.
I was disabled by a short left jab
Just as the jellyfish prepared its sting.