And a new job. It was great. No phones ringing all day long. I had extended periods of time to complete piles of work. Plus, I was working with one of my best friends, Wonder Twin. As in, we are so similar that we were probably separated at birth. I met her first when she and her sister enrolled in my writing class at the university. That was over 25 years ago, and we still enjoy each other's company.
Saint Marty had a good day, and now a good poem. . .
Hemingway Dines on Boiled Shrimp and Beer
by: Campbell McGrath
I’m the original two-hearted brawler.
I gnaw the scrawny heads from prawns,
pummel those mute, translucent crustaceans,
wingless hummingbirds, salt-water spawned.
As the Catalonians do, I eat the eyes at once.
My brawny palms flatten their mainstays.
I pop the shells with my thumbs, then crunch.
Just watch me as I swagger and sprawl,
spice-mad and sated, then dabble in lager
before I go strolling for stronger waters
down to Sloppy Joe’s. My stride as I stagger
shivers the islands, my fingers troll a thousand keys.
My appetite shakes the rock of the nation.
The force of my miction makes the mighty Gulf Stream.
