| LIVING I saw you, there at Hog Island,
Regal, even in oyster-hunting overalls,
Your stern, yet somehow playful lips parted,
Allowing entry to the plump, milky treat.
Your eyes wrinkled with pleasure
As the firm fresh slider met its destiny.
Another, you called, and yet another,
Satiny mollusk throat parade.
Which did you like best,Martha,
Magnificent package of media perfection?
Barbequed, roasted or with tart hogwash sauce,
Which dish widened most that crooked grin?
Bivalve breached, muscle cut,
Another hoggie to Marty's gut,
Thrown-back head flips wreckless curl,
Oyster consumed by precious pearl.
©1998 ZERO |