-jon moore
Can’t be late
Out the gate
Scoot on up
To the Pacific plate
Blazin’ fire
Solar mire
Boats aspire
To pull pots of wire
Crabs galore
Season’s in
On the seabed floor
Is where they begin
Walkin’ sideways
All of their days
Then ‘shock and awe’
When poking in a claw
Quick onto the boat
Crabbers snag the lot
Boilin’ up the brine they go
From pot to pot to pot
-Right here today on the Bo Bay
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