Lobster with Ol’ Dirty Bastard by Michael Cirelli

The broken down fishing boats on the docks rock back and forth
as if there is music in the air. Norma Jean, Captain’s Girl, Jenny,
all hips and
bounce –shimmy shimmy ya in their slips. Across the street,
Randazzo’s Clam Bar,
“the pride of Sheepshead Bay,” bustles. Inside, not fisherman nor
pirate, but rapper
Ol’ Dirty Bastard has his own seat, where he reigns with sunglasses
and a vinyl bib.
Dirty likes it raw, so raw he fathered 13 children, and when he
rolls up to Randazzo’s,
in his black school bus with 24-inch rims, his clan of offspring
pour out like bass.
Mama Randazzo sighs and smiles that forced diagonal smile,
as she drags 6 tables together
There are platters of mussels and little necks with mouths
wide open!
Dinner rolls bounce off the walls like handballs! Sword fights
break out with shrimp
skewers, the toddlers wear calamari rings on their fingers like
diamonds, and lil’ Rusty
does the fake-sneeze-trick that leaves an oyster in his open
palm. Ol’ Dirty is ravishing
a huge boiled lobster, drawn butter dripping down his
chin, as he cracks open the claws
with his golden fangs.

From: http://blog.bestamericanpoetry.com/the_best_american_poetry/2010/02/bob-hershon-presents-a-poem-by-michael-cirelli.html

Date: 2008

By: Michael Cirelli (19?? – )

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