SLUG

On a bed of foot-spittle, glides through the night towards vegetation,
Will devour in one sitting the hopes of gardeners
Then hide with the dawn -
No wonder they chase it with forks and salt,
Brewed liquor and the stamped foot.

Eats its own body weight and more through the witching hours
In mists and under a moon
To leave the world clean -
But who can complain ?

Feeds hedgehogs, foxes, toads and birds,
Stretches eleven times its own length,
Has 27,000 teeth,
Can crawl along the edge of a razor.

Only brute flesh, but see the wonder !