Oysters

The sun is shining longer now,
The days are getting hot:
Summer fetes are on the way,
Grand picnics we must plot.
But slaw ’n’ ribs are so last year,
It’s with mollusks we’re besot.

The bivalves from fair Island Creek
Provoke our drooling grin.
A restaurant source since ’92 —
Massachusetts for the win.
Though to eat, it has required a seat
At Per Se or Le Bernardin.

“O, Oysters, please deliver to us,”
We landlubbers do beseech.

“A pleasant slurp will not usurp
Our memories of the beach.
From bay to door in less than 24,
Should not be such a reach.”

“The time has come,” Island Creek says,

“To acquiesce to all these things:

Of fairness, shipping, and FedEx,

Of e-commerce — we are kings.
And how these morsels of the sea
Are superior to weiners or wings.”

“A lemon wedge,” the experts say,

“Is what you’ll chiefly need.

New England stout and friends beside
Are very good indeed.”
Now if you’re ready, Oysters dear,

We really want to feed.

Island Creek Oysters

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