Raw Goods

oysters on the half-shell

bolt 'em - they got flavor. fire in the pit, much different than fire in the hole; one resides in half a barrel-become-barbecue, and one lives on in the shudders of night sweats and stifled shouts. i don't need to tell you that he was a grunt, and you don't need to know that oysters on the half-shell came my way once a year, when the Showfolks of America parked their trailers around the horseshoe pits and raised a ruckus to rival the primal screams of lennon and yoko, those visages left behind when he put down his glass stein and brass star and married her before she'd graduated high school. she got kicked out for being pregnant when she was sixteen, but she wasn't the same person, then, and never will be.

posted by judy j @ 4:27 PM