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Pearl
Feelin like New Orleans oyster grit
Hungover down in the lowly pit
Me and a shuckin crackin shell bit
Givin the grindin pucker mouth spit
Head is all hazy and hot, not lit
Only light is a musty shanty eye slit
Wearin a worn and torn sleeveless knit
In the total dank dark, hunkered I sit
All around foul smellin nasty stuff
Standin up against all odds, can't quit
Coaxing my saxophone's weeping fit
Lryics from a two beat muffled rhyme wit
The nodding and tapping means a pearl hit
Not like some crazy dreamt up skit
This is real…this is it
poem
by
Paul H Nelson
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