#sestina poem slugs

[echoesyouroctopus]

Sestina for slugs

I step outside my front door

and there are slugs covering

every square inch

of surface area of everything

forming an impenetrable mass

of slow writhing squish.

 ....

I hesitate to squish

any one of their souls by stepping outside my door,

but there’s no choice but to face the mass---

and even with my hands covering

my eyes I see everything

through to the chaos plunging across every shifting inch.

 ....

Feebly, I attempt to inch

my way into the slugs, careful not to squish

even a single squirming part of everything

as I disembark from my door,

my feet hovering, their shadow covering

my plotted course through the mass.

 ....

I weigh my mass

against the slugs’ every inch

as the treads of my shoes press on their outer covering.

But in my mind----Squish!

I’m back at the door.

I’ve run out ideas, out of everything.

 ....

Everything

was simpler before this mass

erupted outside my door,

layered every inch

of my stale life with squish.

Until I forgot what they were covering.

 ....

Either way, I couldn’t see what they were covering

since they were covering everything.

I didn’t dare tread on their squish

to upset the mass.

I didn’t dare move an inch

outside my own door

 ....

to disturb the squish and the unknown it’s covering

or to open the door to the onset of everything.

Waiting, the entire mass begins with the first writhing inch.

#sestina poem slugs