Fruits Of Labor Poem by Ima Ryma

A bunch of pineapples, we be
Taken by bicycle for sale
At a resort in Hawaii
By Biker Bob, hearty and hale,
Who hopes to profit some from us.
And we do not begrudge him that.
We're grown accustomed to it, plus
A resort's where the money's at.
We know we all will be chopped up
And served in fancy drink and food,
Ingesters charged a high price, yup,
We'll tickle taste buds while we're chewed.

One of us taken for a snack
By Biker Bob on his way back