The hardy Chinese Mitten Crab,
A stranger to our shore,
Had burrowed deep into our banks
And made our Crayfish sore.
“You wicked predator”, said Cray,
“You’re taking all my food!”
“Fuck off, you tosspot”, Mitten said,
In manner oh so rude.
“Now look here”, Crayfish sly replied,
His claws up in defiance,
“There’s plenty for the two of us
If we form an alliance.”
The Mitten Crab was wary,
For his hind leg still was smartin’
From where the Fish had bitten him,
So he said: “All right, Martin”.
And so the two vile parasites
Set up shop down in Brighton,
And Mitten soon grew wise to
The fact that he’d found a right ’un.
They fleeced the little fish,
And ripped unwary punters off,
Why should they fight each other
When each had enough to scoff?
And therein lies a lesson
Be you ultra-rich or poor,
You’ll get no satisfaction
If you cross swords with the law.
Back To Poetry Index