Psalm of Imagined Hunger
If I were starving in Nantucket I would first
Go down to the beach and dig for quahaugs;
Or some scallops.
Or drop overboard a neat little lobster car,
Or row to a place where there are wild oysters;
Then I would hang around the docks at five o’clock
When the fishermen come in,
And perhaps get an extra plaicefish
Or some shark or black fish,
(Though I shouldn’t like to eat horseshoe crab or squid)
That failing, I would go out on the moors and snare a pheasant;
I would catch a rabbit and though I wouldn’t know how to cook it, an owl.
To eat crow, I have heard is not judicious—but how about marsh-hawk?
If it were August I would get Irish moss out of the sea,
And flavor it with cranberries.
I would then go crabbing near Our Island Home;
If it were July I should live in the blueberry patches
And find black berries, (you know where!)
And get strawberries in the old cemetery.
I would go mushrooming (very prudently) in fields near Thorn Lots.
I would go beach plumming (very early) on the State Road
I would get in touch with grape vines near Wauwinet
And with hazel nuts near ’Sconset
And dig for swamp root out near Madaket.
Elder berry would be a last resort!
I would hang over the fences of a certain yard in Hussey Street
To see if grapes and pears would come to me.
Or I would interrupt tea-parties on Pleasant Street
Boldly walking in and asking for apples.
Of course I would weed the potato patch of anyone that asked me to
For two potatoes.
I would help with the melons and do what I could for corn and pumpkins;
Peaches and cherries I would pluck on shares
But if all these things failed I would go to a little house,
Where they always know what I mean
And ask for food!