Thumb and index.
Snare with caution.
To hold you firmly and into crocus  sack .
Land crab beware. Hungry Belizeans on the hunt.

The Blue land crab rises with the rain and fiddles
forward seeking feed.
Or flooded out from his cavern.
The night brings silence then
an eerie crashing and clacking
by the hundred thousands they run.

The season. when I was a boy.
The art to catch the big one.
Stalk and wait as he travels afar
staking out territory.

Cornered now in fighting stance
back against the wall. a finger
was the bet to get one by hand.

The cowards choice was the
coconut thong that fell from a dying tree.
The Kiss-Kiss two feet long.
The thong.

That was my choice and into the boiling ***
he goes. the  cauldron bubbled with a few
And maybe even crab stew.

I still have ten fingers five a hand.
The Kiss-Kiss my friend to the end.
I was chicken but the blue crab
went down the hole with ease.
No worries. The coward's way out.

Kiss -Kiss Rule.