the slugs fed up and angry
her slimy trail, against the pale
is lost in all the shrubbery
garden gnomes and broken pots
grey and shiny sniffing dogs
broken stones upon the path
and a long salt bath
snails have homes and friends
the slug is tired of her mes aimes
bored and brown, and on the ground
slugs dont suffer growing pains
eating leaves, chewing bark
waiting for a pick me up
warmer weather, fleeting pleasures
Wetter in the muck
No comments:
Post a Comment