The slug
Be you feathered or furredbiped or quadruped
or as I
limbless and hideless,
we share what in us
lives and burns;
slither as I or run,
you could never outrun
the eternally evanescent now,
what alone is real , the rest
is social shell, false decency-
few can live their nudity
as I do.
Mindless of the toad's opinion
and that of the gardener,
by gnawing, I bite open the earth,
my secretion holds it compact
my shit incubates it.
When the call comes
I'm ready to give
the whole of me
to the heron
as I'm destined to.
Poetry by yoonoos peerbocus
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Written on 2026-05-18 at 01:43
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