The Problem with Coastal Liquor Markets
quiet reports of giant bivalves
meander through romantic conversations,
business transactions
monster clams, dark and seemingly dead
objects of distorted vision and thought
resting myths on the ocean floor
able to swallow divers whole
growing the missing persons report
young couples never able to divorce
the rum merchants and whiskey runners
with tipsy clients know all the good cliffs
an arrangement of good sense
“All toast the giant clam,
our fanciful legend goes especially well
with a bottle of our Spiced Oyster Rum!”
the possibility of existence is terribly exciting
the customers want to believe, but only in jollity
the flutes are coming in, the bongos will soon begin
sales and marketing reports litter the beach
empty bottles with colorful labels twinkle in the sun
from the deep an eruption of bubbles disturbs the surface
5 comments:
CONGRATS! I am very happy of you. The poem is great Pat!!!!!!!!!!!!
Three cheers for the Giant Clam!
Congratulations indeed.
I'll have to chew on the poem a bit more to give a reasonable response...a couple more readings.
There is nothing wrong with unreasonable responses is there? :)
Great stuff, Pat. Congrats, again!
Very nice.
And congrats!
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