Ten pounds of crawfish,
Plus corn on the cob and whole potatoes,
Serves two.  

Eyebrows rise
As the great speckled pot
Is set before us,
 
Eating them takes some effort.
Rip the tail off
Crack open the shell,
Pull the meat out. 

Savor the spicey delicacy.
Then for real spice,
Suck the juice
Out of the head.  

An hour later, the pot is empty,
Hands are tired, mouth burns.
Even beer won’t cool the heat. 

The memory is vivid the next day,
When hands are too sore
To hold a glass of water.  

I’ve heard of tennis elbow,
But who knew
About crawfish hands?