Black Oysters
Black oyster roast
still emits steam.
I see the black oysters
feeding on the muddy
breast of the canal
beyond this plate.
Oysters open their doors
to sooth our stomachs.
Roast slides down our throat
holding on either side
of the taste.
Oyster flesh stimulates
the pale and withered
nights.
Black oyster’s a buttress to
many a dream on the bank.
There’s pleasure even within
the clumsy shells.
The unwanted on a muddy bottom
become the most wanted.
[First published in Literary The
Hatchet by Pear Tree Press, US]
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