Now that one last dude has shot
His wad of nickels into the belly of the beast
And cleared out just before closing time, in comes
That upstairs Greek immigrant tenement urchin who starts
Biting the dust under the row of abandoned pinball machines.
He knows if he hangs in there and keeps
A sharp eye out for any strays, the understanding
Irish lady of the saloon will once again look
The other way and let him pocket
One more buffalo head or two, surely
A good day’s killing for the likes
Of the both of them.
on the way up to Duvall
ReplyDeletein 1974
Jamie Brownlow and I stopped in Raymond
(or near
there)
bought a few dozen oysters and cooked 'em in a fire where we camped out.
don't remember the saloon... which might be were we bout the Rainier Beer
1974 found me back in Greece but I did get my share of oysters to eat while I was growing up and going to high school on Willapa Harbor; best oysters this guy has ever eaten was at the Chester Tavern in South Bend and from what I hear, it still delivers the goods without any frills and fancy marketing that invariably damage such ware.
ReplyDeletehttp://www.yelp.com/biz/chester-tavern-south-bend