Alive, an hour earlier, spitting piped water, plastic
basins overflowing,
clams, greenish gray, the color of sand before
dolomite dumped over garbage in Manila Bay
edged out even sea roaches on the breakwater.
Filtering out filth is the point.
Ginulat means surprised, so the clams slipping open
heaved their sudden last, scalded in their shells, boiling point
inflicted to split a body from its home, fresh meat splayed apart,
jutting foot in the not-broth. Hauled,
knife-pried,
last thought of escape
morseled, sea-sweet
needing heat
of red
pepper, garlic, large
quantities of garlic, vinegar,
ripe tomatoes on the side, and
salt.
The sea returning to the sea
under the bloom, before the tide, red,
avenged the murder of clams, death by
water
expelled,
yearning for the undertow. Sand, gray, held tight to the body,
zone of shorelines laid bare, a film of slime around each grain.
From Tagalog, ginulat is a method of food preparation involving the abrupt pouring of boiling water; for live clams, this is done as soon as their shells open.
