A silver serpent crosses the land. Drawing miles of straight lines, sometimes a bend. It never sleeps but lays on a bed. Like stairs taking people up, yet it always stays flat.

Like Rodin's 'The Thinker,' Perched on a pot, When lost in deep thought, I'm the best spot to squat

You mostly know me in my synthetized and comercialized form, but but you should know me as an animal useful for filtering the sea - just like you know that I can clean your skin or your countertop.

Ain’t nobody cool as me unless they’re known for being level headed. Long and green, crunchy and delicious. Sweet or sour, sometimes that bite can be vicious.

The ground around me is forgiving to a fall, but deadly without understanding. Near or far, people traverse on me for beauty or sport. Here beauty can turn to a swirl of chaos.