All in all, things were looking dicey

for the last few lobsters in the tank

of the first-class galley on D-Deck.

​

The king and queen were long gone,

removed and dispatched to be served with Heidsieck Gout Americain Champagne.

​

The royal guard had been routed,

scooped out of the water yesterday,

claws clacking ineffectually.

​

When today’s lunch and dinner service

took the rest of the brightest and best,

their small world was a bleak place to be.

​

But the high priest never lost hope

and shortly before midnight his prayers

were finally answered by an iceberg.

​

The sea always looks after its own,

he could be heard saying, years later,

at award dinners and jubilees.

Finn Brooke is a New Zealand poet, previously writing under the pseudonym Gwyn Ryan. He owes his love of poetry to those who have gone before and to the enduring myths and legends of all cultures that speak
to our shared human experience. His work has been published or is upcoming in Investigate, Quadrant & Blue Unicorn.