mucus-like slugs, thrown to the wayside
ejected, from a chamber waist-high
a prideful ******
once full of lust
now listing for the coming
daytime

If I were a peacock,
I would blue-green iridescent burst beauty
pretty would not mean strange or weak
brightness would be bravery, screaming LOOKING THIS GOOD IS MORE IMPORTANT THAN SAFETY FROM PREDATORS
I would love my women drab, concealable, nearly invisible
... maybe some of us are already part peacock

If I were a leopard slug,
I would never worry if I was man enough
I would love all of my hermaphroditic glands equally
or, more realistically, I would be ashamed of all of them equally,
never sure if my gonopore was symmetric enough,
if my translucent blue-white ***** was beautiful enough to ever intertwine and bloom with another's
there would be no gay bars or marriage equality movements or swallowed-wink "no ****"s
no one would tap around your abdomen in search of the right organs before declaring your birthright aptitude in cooking or car repair
you and I, we would follow each other around all night, exchanging playful licks, before impregnating each other, circus-suspended from a tree branch
... I guess that part would be the same

If I were cricket or frog or songbird, my music would be my perfect gift to you.
I would learn guitar and start a band and
everyone would love me
(way more than the bass player)

But I am a man.
I don't know what that means yet.

There was once a family of slugs
That lived in a cabbage patch town
They went out everynite to eat
Found a cabbage and began to munch down

All through the night they could reduce
A cabbage to a stalk in the ground
All night they would munch and munch
But you would never hear then , nary a sound

But Mrs. H was becoming fed up
Her patch was the proudest around
With malace , blood red , she schemed
She vowed to eliminate all those clowns

She purchased the best poison they had
She tried every trick she had read
But the slugs just kept on coming
Every night, long after it was bed

Then a local wino for he said
Out of the garden he could take
These inconsiderate gluttonous
Stylommatophora Pulmonates

So he began by opening a beer
Placing some into a sphere
Putting them by each cabbage head , he said
"This will make those slugs disappear"

But by morning the cabbage was gone
Worse yet so was the beer and
If you looked even more closely tiny signs saying , "Next time make it import you here !"

little slug
lived his life
thinking he was a snail
until a man came along
ripped off his shell
and covered him in salt