Father's Day
Brainless mud-dwelling creature.
Family all gathered around,
Exchanging clothes gifts and gadgets.
Though June Sunday’s greatest feature.
Low tide, buried in thick black silt−
Follow the leader with a plastic bag.
Slimy gooey toe squishy gunk,
Leave party shirt back on the deck
To muck around, shins up to the hilt−
No guns, rods, nets, motors or boards,
Just cover for your bare butt and walk into tide.
Rocks, busted shells, crab and bottom stuff,
Ancient stories of Native shellfish hoards.
Dads, Uncles, Aunts, and Kids and Wife
Can all dig clams, genetic hunters unleashed.
Humans so upright and intelligent,
Too many thoughts to share and bare,
Stoop down to catch lowliest of edible life.
But what a pleasure it is to see
All the smart gatherers diving to get a clam.
It’s too helpless to even swim away,
Its last living act to provide such glee.
Put the burgers and dogs aside,
There's a new sheriff in this kitchen town.
Some open, some prepare and others just look on
As the simple animals take us for a culinary ride.
We eat them raw with lemon on the half shell
And linguini with buttery clammy sauce.
Those too big to swallow whole
Get chopped and baked into a fabulous smell.
So we came expecting one thing
And ended up doing another.
Diggers, cooks, mixers and connoisseurs…
We had our Father's Day with a happy clam fest fling.
Family all gathered around,
Exchanging clothes gifts and gadgets.
Though June Sunday’s greatest feature.
Low tide, buried in thick black silt−
Follow the leader with a plastic bag.
Slimy gooey toe squishy gunk,
Leave party shirt back on the deck
To muck around, shins up to the hilt−
No guns, rods, nets, motors or boards,
Just cover for your bare butt and walk into tide.
Rocks, busted shells, crab and bottom stuff,
Ancient stories of Native shellfish hoards.
Dads, Uncles, Aunts, and Kids and Wife
Can all dig clams, genetic hunters unleashed.
Humans so upright and intelligent,
Too many thoughts to share and bare,
Stoop down to catch lowliest of edible life.
But what a pleasure it is to see
All the smart gatherers diving to get a clam.
It’s too helpless to even swim away,
Its last living act to provide such glee.
Put the burgers and dogs aside,
There's a new sheriff in this kitchen town.
Some open, some prepare and others just look on
As the simple animals take us for a culinary ride.
We eat them raw with lemon on the half shell
And linguini with buttery clammy sauce.
Those too big to swallow whole
Get chopped and baked into a fabulous smell.
So we came expecting one thing
And ended up doing another.
Diggers, cooks, mixers and connoisseurs…
We had our Father's Day with a happy clam fest fling.
© 2007 by Michael Domino
