When I eat crab, slide the rosy
rubbery claw across my tongue
I think of my mother. She'd drive down
to the edge of the Bay, tiny woman in a
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So much vivid I ageey describing the how to's of going aabouthe process of crab eating. Interesting.
Superb poem about mother, Mother Sea, the life force, the joy of plenty, the joy of eating and the mystery of being flesh. Why is Life so wonderful and creepy at the same time? Why are mothers so flesh-like and animal-like and yet so loving at the same time? Mother are so brave and so relentless - doing all those things like wading into the ocean and tangling with scary pinching crabs and scary pricking father - and hungry me being born is the result. And here mother is, still at work, relentlessly offering up flesh breast fragments for our feeding.