THE GREAT LOBSTER BOIL

THE GREAT LOBSTER BOIL – By Lem Snow

There's young folks and hoary involved in this story,
The title of which is the great lobster boil;
A tale of great slaughter in boiling hot water
Of lobster that came from the Straits of Belle Isle.

By car, truck and flivver, en route from Trout River,
The lobsters arrived here one evening in May;
At a lakeside location near the great hydro station,
Where all was made ready to boil them that day.

Folks came from the high roads, they came from the by-roads,
They came with a smirk and they came with a smile;
Young men and their ladies and women with babies,
All rushed to the scene of the great lobster boil.

As we were toiling with lobster pots boiling,
The freshly cooked lobster we stacked in a pile;
By sniffing and smelling the fragrance compelling,
Folks came on parade to the great lobster boil.

There were big ones and small ones, wide, fat, short and tall ones,
And one man who'd ne'er seen a lobster before;
He thought they were pliers all tied up with wires,
As used by the linesmen who travel this shore.

There were tellers and nurses with handbags and purses,
All daintily dressed as you well may suppose;
In flashy regalia, with paraphernalia,
Including white tissues for wiping the nose.

They were sucking and slurping like little birds chirping,
The last tasty morsel was well worth the while;
While paste from those creatures bespattered our features,
But none gave a hoot at the great lobster boil.

There came an old codger, an out-of-town lodger,
He said, "All my life I've been tilling the soil;
I've never been fishing but long I've been wishing,
To get a good meal at a great lobster boil."

He purchased a dozen for him and his cousin,
And sat down nearby with a satisfied smile;
While shells were a-cracking their lips were a-smacking,
Enjoying the feast at the great lobster boil.

With babies a-crying and lobster shells flying,
As sham battles raged on the shell-littered soil;
Bespattered and smelling, we still kept on selling,
The lobster we cooked at the great lobster boil.

There were maidens and urchins and white-headed merchants,
All clamoring for lobster, oh, what a turmoil;
When two pretty fillies got cramps in their bellies,
And ran for relief from the great lobster boil.

So this ends my story of work, fun, and glory,
The title of which is the great lobster boil,
This tale of great slaughter in boiling hot water
Of lobster that came from the Straits of Belle Isle.