Oysters Symoisters Poem by George Hunter

Was just battin’ around
Trying to get a hunch
Of what the heck to get for lunch.
Opened the fridge and looked to see
If anything at all appealed to me.
Then saw something, way back on the shelf
Behind some stuff, hiding itself
It was a jar of oysters crouching there
That I’d bought once, I know not where.
Checked the date and it was all right
Didn’t want to be sick all thru the night.

Rolled them around in some masa harina
While I played a tune on my ocarina.
Then fried them deep in some peanut oil
Once I’d got that stuff to boil.
Then fried some Or-Idas, what a treat,
Fish and chips is hard to beat.
Dipped them in ketchup and took a bite
Then washed it all down with a Miller Lite.

Always admired the guy who got the notion
To eat the first oyster from the ocean.
Must have been as starved as hell
To eat such a slimy thing right from the shell.
I remembered when I had calmed my fears,
Although I’d had a couple of beers,
I gingerly put one in my mouth
Thinking my brains had all gone South.

I chewed it up and it wasn’t so bad
But not the best thing I’d ever had.
Now I like them, guess I’m hooked
‘Cept I have to say I prefer them cooked.

Some slurp them up, juice and all
But that seems to me a very bad call.
To swallow them whole is sure a waste
Because that way you miss the taste.
Unless that’s what you want to do,
Then skip the oysters, just drink your brew.

They used to get them fresh from Chesapeake Bay
But today most are raised on a farm they say
Trying to avoid the mercury
That’s begun to pollute the deep blue sea.
Oh well, that’s the story of my lunch
As upon these oysters I do crunch.