<\/div>\n

Crabby Old Men
\n<\/strong><\/p>\n

Although I’ve tried hard
\nnot to become one of them,
\nI’m failing.
\nLast night, near dawn,
\na light came on.
\nI felt irritated,
\nbored, and offended,
\n(definition of crabby!)
\nI feel like I’m becoming
\nKing Crab.
\nDon’t look at me like that,
\nI know what I’m not doing
\nand I won’t start again.<\/p>\n

Crabs once came to Earth
\nfrom somewhere else
\nin the Universe, probably
\nthe Crab Nebula.
\n(Who came first, the crab
\nor the nebula?)
\nThey landed in the bottom
\nof Chesapeake Bay
\nand gradually migrated
\ninto towns and cities
\nand now they’re
\neverywhere. <\/p>\n

Once I lived next to
\na bungalow full of naked
\nold men called The Crabs.
\nIf we spoke above a whisper
\nsomeone would yell shut up.
\nOne of them told me once,
\n“You know crabs are
\ngender neutral.” <\/p>\n

When I watched crabs fucking
\nat the Aquarium
\nI realized he was
\ntalking about himself.<\/p>\n

Crabbiness is a treasure
\nI’ve tried to avoid.
\nI once was sweeter
\nand more lovable
\nbut lately I’m just…
\ncrabby.
\nI can’t help it,
\nlife is too complicated
\nand I’m already excommunicated.<\/p>\n

~ Jack McGuane<\/p>\n