I recall clearly, my mom took me to peek
at the calico box crab roadside circus freak.
Some kids have a tooth fairy, my reward, more oblique.
I stood, mouth agape, quite unable to speak.
I had a strange childhood, you might call it unique,
before reaching adulthood, employment to seek.
We found the calico box crab man
with leathery skin and a deep, dark tan.
He gave us soup that was filled with nails,
squirrel bones and catfish entrails.
As he told his tale and we heard him speak,
the sky would cry, and the ceiling, leak.
I heard the calico box crab theme
as I nestled warmly by a trout-filled stream.
I saw the hare and tortoise dance,
and wondered if it was romance,
or just an addled dream.
I was only eight
when I caught the calico box crab freight.
Just a small-town crab-boy in tattered britches,
I found my way to fame and riches,
loaded in a crate.
Once, an aged fisherman was heard to speak
from a boat on the shore of Chesapeake Bay.
His voice, like every bone and plank that did creak,
(as the ocean waves came in to splash and spray)
about a creature, singular and unique,
"'twas eighty-seven years ago to the day.
When I was just up to a grasshopper's knee
I saw the calico box crab by the sea.
As I stood near the sand on a slick sea slab,
in an earthly appearance of God's good grace,
it was then that I saw it - I saw the crab,
sporting a spotted, colorful carapace,
a crustacean, that never was dull nor drab.
I would always remember the special place
where I first found the joy I couldn't foresee,
meeting the calico box crab by the sea.
I tried gently to touch her, with my right hand,
but I scared the calico box crab away,
as she disappeared swiftly in the soft sand.
I come back to this place each year on this day,
but I won't come again. My time is at hand,
and I'm going to Heaven, but I can say,
'I never touched her, but I once got to see
the pretty calico box crab by the sea.'"
Life has an odd habit
of making you miss
old street curbs and
stop signs.
The street I miss
the most, though,
has to be the cross
street between the
crab apple orchard
and my friend
Jacksons
house.
Something about that
place felt infinite. And
something about sometimes
friends feels greater than
sometimes.
Would I go back?
Absolutely not.
Because it was by my
old elementary school,
and going there would
only remind me of all
the times being a kid
was enough.
I think it stopped being
enough when I got to
the ending of "Stand By
Me." And I realized that
River Phoenix was dead.
Or maybe it ended when
my brother got a girlfriend,
and I developed a bad habit
of sleeping in,
to ignore the fact
that I was undesirable,
and that my brother didn't
want to play games or talk
to me anymore.
I miss my brother.
I miss Jackson.
And I miss that green
park that was right behind
his house.
And I especially miss
that old crab apple orchard
where I wasted whole
afternoons reading up on the
adventures
of Tom Sawyer
and Huck Finn.
Tell me,
are there any
street curbs you
miss?
When cooking something hot,
The oven mitts you grab.
Pulling them on, you think,
“Am I a wanna-be crab?”
Bloody Crab-Apples
Savor
The Vervant
Abundance!!!
Why
Would
We:
Be So Bold???
We Know
What
WE
Like!!
WHEN
We
Won’t :
EAT
What
We're
TOLD!!!
-Gray Squirrel
06-12-2025
I n.
l a
ove the oce
I sleep in wet sand.
My biggest fear is
a child's little hand.
You guessed my secret.
Don't ever blab.
Yours, sincerely,
riendly Sand Cr
F a
A b.
I love the ocean.
I sleep in wet sand.
My biggest fear is
a child's little hand.
You guessed my secret.
Don't ever blab.
Yours, sincerely,
A Friendly Sand Crab.
hermit's shell
feeling way too tight of fit
had to go
off it slipped
as naked crab stole a conch
clad in nacre pearl
little wounded crab
walking down the sandy beach
tasty seagull meal
Nomads, crabs aspire
Forsaken shells for tasking.
Seas' wanderers rest.
-Let's see Cortinario with fattened foot
If you answer me, who says
To everyone who sees him:
If my mouth opens
You'll open too.
Clytocibe: -The Flycatcher
From the Cathedral of Burgos.
-Very well Cortinario
You know what you know.
-Today are you going to take the mules to water
At the fountain in Ejido?
-Why do you say that?
-Because when you come for water
From the hermitage where I meditate
I feel the horseshoes.
-Well, you're going to feel them even more
When the crab puts you
In the cave.
-Oh no. Not that.
-What do you mean no!
You know: saying “oh no”
Is like saying *******.
-Shut up, silly boy.
Pray without sorrow
For at the foot of the altar awaits you
The Devil who watches over you
With a paschal candle
Lucent in his hands.
blue crabs cross the road
scurry through the sandy grass
nearing water’s edge
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