The Bad Snail
This could probably use some more work, as I wrote it straight and didn't bother editing it aside from one line rewrite. But I've found that if I do that, I never go back to things -- so here you are.
(update: and, just to normalize the lines a bit, I've done a quick rewrite...and another rewrite).
The Bad Snail
-- for batshua
Copyright 2012, Joshua Kronengold
I'm a very bad snail.
I like land more than water.
Sand bothers my skin.
My slime's more like sweat.
I have too many limbs.
I'm developing language
And outgrowing my shell.
Maybe it's the salt water.
Or the color of my skin?
It's enough to make you sweat.
Why does anything need limbs?
I wish I knew more language.
So I could describe my shell
And how to be a snail?
I wish I could scratch my skin,
Or at least wipe off the sweat.
I suppose that's a use for limbs...
And complaining one for language.
Maybe I should leave my shell?
Though that's bad for a snail.
Like a fish out of water.
Though I make water -- sweat.
I could stretch out my limbs.
Yet, to use stronger language,
I don't want to lose my shell!
I could be a better snail--
And snails live near water.
Don't want to dry out my skin.
Still, there's pain in my limbs.
I will make up bad language.
And struggle in my shell.
Could I not be a snail?
Except that makes my eyes water.
And tingles up my skin.
It scares me. I sweat.
Why can't a snail use language?
I could come out of my shell,
An articulate snail,
With stories about water,
And no itch on my skin,
Only just a little sweat,
Though they'd all hate my limbs.
Which push out my shell,
I am just an awful snail.
But I want to leave the water,
Feel the air on my skin,
The thought of it makes me sweat,
Puts a shiver through my limbs,
Fills me with hopeful language!
I will always be a snail.
Even though I like fresh water.
But not water on my skin.
Except, of course, for sweat.
I can walk--stretch out my limbs,
And sing out joyful language.
For I've broken my shell.
This entry was originally posted on Dreamwidth, where there are
comments. Comment there or comment here below.
(update: and, just to normalize the lines a bit, I've done a quick rewrite...and another rewrite).
The Bad Snail
-- for batshua
Copyright 2012, Joshua Kronengold
I'm a very bad snail.
I like land more than water.
Sand bothers my skin.
My slime's more like sweat.
I have too many limbs.
I'm developing language
And outgrowing my shell.
Maybe it's the salt water.
Or the color of my skin?
It's enough to make you sweat.
Why does anything need limbs?
I wish I knew more language.
So I could describe my shell
And how to be a snail?
I wish I could scratch my skin,
Or at least wipe off the sweat.
I suppose that's a use for limbs...
And complaining one for language.
Maybe I should leave my shell?
Though that's bad for a snail.
Like a fish out of water.
Though I make water -- sweat.
I could stretch out my limbs.
Yet, to use stronger language,
I don't want to lose my shell!
I could be a better snail--
And snails live near water.
Don't want to dry out my skin.
Still, there's pain in my limbs.
I will make up bad language.
And struggle in my shell.
Could I not be a snail?
Except that makes my eyes water.
And tingles up my skin.
It scares me. I sweat.
Why can't a snail use language?
I could come out of my shell,
An articulate snail,
With stories about water,
And no itch on my skin,
Only just a little sweat,
Though they'd all hate my limbs.
Which push out my shell,
I am just an awful snail.
But I want to leave the water,
Feel the air on my skin,
The thought of it makes me sweat,
Puts a shiver through my limbs,
Fills me with hopeful language!
I will always be a snail.
Even though I like fresh water.
But not water on my skin.
Except, of course, for sweat.
I can walk--stretch out my limbs,
And sing out joyful language.
For I've broken my shell.
This entry was originally posted on Dreamwidth, where there are
comments. Comment there or comment here below.