Ms Turtle comes to dinner

She’s poking her head
from underneath the soft shell.
She takes her time, of course–
and I’m a jackrabbit running
circles around her,
trying to get her to hurry up.

We have this push-pull relationship.
Opposites attract, and all that.
I feel like I’m constantly tugging on her sleeve,
and she’s constantly, patiently,
telling me to slow down, and
just wait for that

But have you ever seen turtles having sex?
I have this vivid image from the zoo,
male turtle grunting, neck stretched
farther out of his shell than I’d ever seen it,
barely moving at all–and his head, slowly,
so slowly, straining, struggling,
like he wanted desperately to
break free entirely.

And maybe there’s a little turtle in all of us.
But Ms Turtle, she’s bulking up,
(she gets red sometimes when I talk about her,)
and just maybe it’s time
for a little turtle soup.

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