Two black eyes
On a sweet white face
Floppy ears that lie
Those ears actually taste
Algae is the most favourite place
With no arms
No tricks up their sleeves
Should they be on a farm?
Each looks like a sheep
If only they made a bit of cheese
To light their fire
They suck chloroplasts
Leaf sheep never tire
Photosynthesis gives them gas
Even without the sun’s sunny blast
Amazing you say
We must agree
And all shout hurray!
Photosynthesis under the sea?
An amazing feat for a slug so wee
Darkish water, stormy seas
Not a problem to be seen
The leaf sheep glow and glean
Pokey horns but they’re not mean
Wearing chlorophyll dresses in neon green
Not green with envy or jealousy
Not these hermaphrodites
Always with themselves lovey
Never a fight
Peace and love are always in sight
You will want to pet them
This most unlikely lot
But please don’t squeeze them
They will pop
They’re the size of a dot
Once, shell-less snails filled me with terror.
That childish outlook was my error.
Now, I laugh it off with a shrug.
It's just another slug.
***
If rock-paper-scissors was a game,
played with creatures whose only aim
was to eat,
when confronted by a duck, new to town,
any slug with pluck, would soon go down
in defeat.
in the remote remoteness
of somewhere remote
flew a fly
this fly had realised gravity,
relativity and string theory
a professor and physicist
wise to everyone else
in the dark darkness
of somewhere dark
sped a spider
this spider had mastered
a multitude of languages
a remarkable multilinguist
understanding everyone else
in the open openness
of somewhere open
mouthed a moth
this moth recited poetry
of a profound profundity
an awe-inspiring poet
warming everyone else
in the damp dampness
of somewhere damp
sludged a slug
this slug was just a slug
but more than a slug to others
wise, understanding, warming
a friend to everyone else
Stopping to contemplate a slug
I marveled at this taciturn bug
Designed to live underground
occasionally it is found
making its way ‘long a crosswalk
using up half a day’s clock
on its tortuous path homeward bound
~ never making one single sound
A snail makes his home inside a shell.
"My home", I say, "is a living hell".
A snail without a shell's a slug.
"I guess, my home's not so bad", I shrug.
Summer here
in this year is too hot
I need an empty lot
covered by
green moss and shrubs
A gentle breeze
affectionately shaking leaves
and...
and you, the earth
open the door of love
and let me in
within...
me, a glowing myrth, the lovely slug,
plug me in,
the soft soil, the beautiful girl,
the inevitable woman,
the mother,
the wife,
the sister,
the one and the only receiver of pain
let me have a deep sleep
in your brain
It is too hot here, this summer.
Holliswood, New york
1 September 2018.
here comes that jack-o-lantern bug.
announcement made by my cousin Slug.
I was looking for something flying in the air.
the Volkswagen came up to my stair.
Hello! The owner said, happy and sweet.
I have come to say “hi” and to trick-or-treat
It was my old friend Slug a bug McTame.
Punching me on the shoulder used to be her game.
An orange Tesla that was bought by Scott
Ran out of go juice right there on the spot
Then was quickly passed
By a Pacer, gassed
And AMC car shaped like a kumquat
Your slug reader nanny is incredibly bouncy.
Mom said with a lilt suspiciously announce-yl
He is hilarious, full of great fun.
I could hardly wait to meet this slug reader named Hun.
Hun came in slowly and opened a book.
He told me to stop fidgeting and get a fish hook.
handed me a fresh line, some worms and a pole.
I loved it that he knew I have a fisherman’s soul.
I was waiting for some skipping or hopping, some kind of flair.
But there was no movement except a monarch floating in the air.
Hun handed me a box of cookies and I ate my way through it.
As a new nanny for me, he ended up being quite a “hit”!
Hey Tom Cunningham, you could help bring Putin down,
Plastic surgery has made him into a legendary clown,
Ridicule him whilst highlighting his inhumanity,
Mock him but telling of his insanity,
Advise him his plastic surgeon should give him a frown
I want to take over the world, cause misery and dying
I want to create a master race, kill all low living swine
I want a god who answers to me, be exclusively mine
Mostly I want what I never had, that would be a spine
By
David Kavanagh
The Fact is, we're stranded here.
With an ever-ungrateful, godless population.
Resources are far beyond strained.
The selfish leadership perched upon nuclear-oriented brains...
In a race to see if we can outrun the dark side of ourselves.
Into the safety mirage of our stained-glass spaces.
We move like banana slugs trying to escape the flames.
From a renegade campfire of our own making.
We've been ordained, the fragile species.
Swept away by the gentlest of tides.
Suffocated by a slight dip in oxygen.
Our mason jar spacecraft with microscopic cracks.
Searching for fresh drinking water in the seams of heaven...
Although we've skunked our own Eden.
We're alone in the universe by divine design.
Stranded by colossal egos and tiny cane toad brains...
Who'll be the alpha cannibal?
Sitting around the omega campfire.
Taunted by the sirens of the stars.
Haunted by the gray wing of a nuclear rain.
Yellow fire hazards blemish the lawn,
prickly to bare summer feet.
Locusts overtake the heat.
Aphids feast and continue to spawn,
yet still remain strawberries to eat.
7-8-2021
I am a sloth, a slob, a slug
During the summer when school is out.
I move in slow motion from chair to couch to bed.
I am in the throes of binge eating –
sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar, sugar and salt.
pie, cake, cinnamon rolls, pie, cake and chips.
I am sluggish.
I have gained eight pounds in the eight pounds I have been home
I can barely waddle from the living room couch to bed.
I am wearing an oversized purple and red mumu now.
You could fit a small calf in here with me but I may grow into it.
I am a sloth, a slob, as slug
During the summer when school is out.
Heretic, lunatic, slug went to tea.
Two were crazy but then there was me.
Raunchy laughter loud
Truly insane proud.
Restaurant clapped when we left there finally.
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