Start with a bucket of waterTaken straight from the bayTaste, to ensure it is saltyLook, to ensure it is gray

Find the Little Bay Sand WitchBorrow a cup of her sandAsk for the kind that is sweatyOr I warn you your soup will be bland

Hunt for the shell of a moon snailMoon snails are found at low tideStick your hand deep in the gravelDeep—to avoid you—they hide

Find the four spikes of an urchinCover in jellyfish spreadGarnish with cordgrass and glasswortAnd algae, stringy and red

Locate some rocks that are shiny,For texture, grind up a clamA spoonful of slimiest seaweedAnd the bumps of the bumpiest crab

Now listen, ever so closelyIt’s called the London tree planeGather the bark it has sheddedAnd add to it a liter of rain

Now stir it all into a whirlpoolAnd wait for some lightning to strike itDuring the full moon of AugustIt’s worth it! I promise you’ll like it!