Creatrixsblood's Weblog

A Doubt:
March 6, 2014, 1:57 am
Filed under: doubt, emotions, poetry, writing | Tags: ,

Thousands of tiny feet secreting slime

so it can steadily creep

(using muscular contractions)

up the vertical, but pitted face

of self confidence.


The trail attracts others.

They mate, cords of mucus

suspend their writhing bodies

until both are spent.

They lay about thirty eggs each.


Armed with salt, still haven’t killed them all.



1 Comment so far
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tsk. Sadness. I have a seasonal plethora of slugs, ranging in size from incredibly cute babies, a quarter inch long, to elders who may reach four to five inches. I love them, as I do most creatures – the exception being some of the two-legged ones – and though they do like to dine on plants, when I encounter them, it is easy to gently slide a piece of slick cardboard beneath them and relocate them to a place where they may feed in peace without eating the prettier flowers. They occasionally make a wee bit of mess when they feed at the outdoor food dishes left for the feral cats and occasional opossum, but I can’t blame them for wanting some roughage and fiber in their diet.

Comment by Slobyskya Rotchikokov

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