First Oysters at 14

By Heather Foster. Posted in Issue Three and Poetry. Bookmark the permalink.

I ate them raw—
the meat thick,
slippery slight
resistance, dot
of sweet chili
sauce, and sucked
the juice. Then
salt and zinc
on the tongue—
the ugly shell
to a shine.

● ● ●

Heather Foster lives on a farm in Tennessee and dreams of owning a housebroken pig named Pigstachio. She’s an MFA candidate in poetry at Murray State University. Her poems and stories are featured in PANK, Monkeybicycle, Anderbo, Lumberyard, Cutthroat, and damselfly, among other journals.

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