Sunday, 8 March 2015

Sunday Poem

SEX LIVES OF LEOPARD SLUGS 

Drawn by a scent,
a body without bone—
move with the ease of silk. 
Upward, slugs seek
an overhang. 
Hermaphrodite contortionists
spin on a rope of mucous.
Entwined, dangling aerialists in courtship. 
The intrusive mind, endless swing
as if overtaken by a current.
Optical tentacles, skirt and mouth,
fringe against foot, press
in a knot that spins. 
The penis is in the slug’s head:
they both evert a phallus and tangle.
It can take hours
to unwind the appendages.
They drop like a seed
to its place on the earth.
From Proof (DC Books, 2014) by Larissa Andrusyshyn

3 comments:

David Godkin said...

Well crafted, but to what end, beyond the metaphoric recreation of thing?

David Godkin said...

I meant to say “a” thing, of course. dg

Unknown said...

On of my favourites from 'Proof'.