A Solitary Slug by Jennie Hart

‘I never expected that!’ ...  But intolerance is lurking in every garden border

No one can comprehend what it’s like to be a slug

I have a poor self-image because of who I am

My parents didn’t tell me that I could be him or her

That today I may be ‘Rosy’ and tomorrow may be ‘Sam’

I am not a stupid slug as many of you think

I know I’m cold and slippery but that’s part of my demeanour

It’s tough to be hermaphrodite not know which way to be

But those who say I’m ghastly, well, they have no bedside manner

I have a gender problem, am I ‘he’ or ‘she’ or ‘they’?

My sexual orientation it is fluid

I am glad I don’t wear clothing I would not know what to wear

But in my drape of silver slime, I imitate a druid!

My pronoun choice is difficult, I think I’ll go for ‘they’

But on my ‘Rosy’ days I may be ‘she’

I will consult with ‘Sam’ to find out what’s his preference

I suspect he’ll shun the ‘they’ and go for ‘he’

Did you know that during courtship slugs fire love darts?

The Greek God Eros honed this special skill

I have no organ ready to receive it

My love moves close sometimes against my will

To tell the truth I find it very painful

‘He’ coats his arrow with a pheromone

But sometimes it is ‘she’ whose deadly love dart

Stabs my skin and chills me to the bone

(metaphorically!)

I suspect among our garden hosts that one or two are racists

I’ve heard of inequality and am rather glad I’m grey

My ‘fellow’ slug who lives nearby (and may some days be ‘female’)

Has told me that his blackness, is far worse than being gay

There’s a movement in the garden to eliminate my black friends

Those humans prod and poke them they are easier to spot

My earthy grey-brown camouflage tones with the mulch and leaf mould

So my black and shiny comrades, admire my colour quite a lot

At least there is no sexism, we are male and also female

‘I never expected that!’ I hear you say

But intolerance is lurking in every garden border

Be it colour, age or gender, life’s a challenge every day