Could they feel mud Pleasurable under claws As I could between bare toes? That question ended it—I Stood shut out, for once, for all, Puzzling the passage of their Absolutely alien Order as I might puzzle At the clear tail of Halley’s Comet coolly giving my Orbit the go-by, made known By a family name it Knew nothing of. So the crabs Went about their business, which Wasn’t fiddling, and I filled A big handkerchief with blue Mussels.
