a raw oyster on her way to
her marriage with abalone
I cherish my warm lump and I
Do

Out on glass beach they
shard their mucous before the mosey
in the communal garden,
Abalone can ask her to remove
the pearl and shell and
Here she comes running, with her
hammer and froth
trapped in a vine of stumble
and fall

Place ourselves in the wet
cement to dry impermanence
Once, we seeped back into a
Real Utopia and had it all for
lunch.

But I neglected a cork to pop
Abalone is a muscle of frown
The kelp is disfigured on the coast
my rawness has begun to rot

The hull turns a dark hue
Glass is gone from the beach in
a token of good
Will myself to
Keep myself
Abalone was tough to chew