Envy Is The Road Jostled By Crabs Poem by Mark Heathcote

What does she see in this fisherman?
Can't she see he's a will-o'-the-wisp?
What does she see in him an old man?
Tattooed—sun-baked and burnt to a crisp.
Netting shrimps & crabs, catching the breeze
Bronze tanned the colour of autumn leaves.

Does she think he's some, kind of merman?
… At the drop of a hat—gone are her panties.
Guess I'm a jack pike a young salmon.
Does he sing her some old sea shanties?
I guess the likes of me - are small fry;
I'm glad—who am I to objectify.

Envy is the road jostled by crabs,
'Look sees' I've got more meat on my claws
With a much younger mate! Keeping tags
It's just the same as drawing short straws
Being well matched 'now that's the best catch'.
Maybe that's why he isn't too, well thatched.