THE CURSE OF A HERMIT CRAB
Begone, Wild Spirit, let us be!
We have no prayers to waste on thee,
In stolen shells, hidden, outcast,
Here we feel safe, alone at last!
How did we get so crabby?
Lord,
We got this way because we're
bored,
And burdened with much ridicule
Since crabs swim backwards
as a rule.
It's all because we once broke free
Of orthodox society
And chose the hermit's life sublime.
Alas, we then lost track of time!
No bells or sundials or TV,
Crabs still consider it B.C.
When ways of counting are reversed,
The higher numbers coming first.
Likewise, our clocks all backwards run
Start down from 12 and end with 1,
And counterclockwise move their hands:
Which messes up the best-laid plans.
Believe me, hermits feel
like duds
When May rain brings the
April buds,
And one feels pinchy, stressed
and sour
When growing younger every
hour.
So now you see why crabs are cursed
With always swimming fanny first:
It fits with Time that's passing by
But counting backwards, who knows why?
from the forthcoming book Prayers of 100 Animals A to Z, by William Cleary
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