poem by Tara Simonetta
Sliding off the half shell into my uncle’s mouth
“Tastes like watermelon,” he says
As he throws the shell back onto the beach.
Oysters fall into the bucket
A knife through the shell
“do you want the muscle?”
Watermelon of the sea.
Start your engines, up the dirt road.
Bubbling water, blistering oven
Bacon, HP, teriyaki, molten butter.
Tonight, we feast like kings.
“Is that a pearl?”
The feast has ceased
Back to the beach.