I hurt my back I cried and prayed to God
That next time I’ll be born a gastropod
You might call me spineless, this is true.
I hope the Lord won’t send me back as you.
Slugs and snails can have a happy life
There is no class,no politics, no strife.
Humbly in the damp they live and die.
They don’t look up and wish that they could fly.
They do not read or use a mobile phone.
They don’t get flu nor covid 99
On the red tiled porch snails congregate
We’ve had so much rain, they nearly float
They do not purr like cats do when they’re pleased
Do they even try to sing or talk?
No one wrote an opera for such beasts
They might wait for Godot without speech
They could not hope that we would cuddle them.
They won’t come to Blackpool for the beach.
What do snails do to pass the long hours best?
Spend an hour with them inside the hedge.
But do not warm one in your woollen vest
I’d rather worship one on this red ledge
The shell of snail of cockle of a crab
The artistry is there, but snails don’t brag
In a sidebar in Power Responsibility and Freedom Smail posits three laws that if understood fully would save everyone a lot of anxiety:
Law 1 “Absolutely everybody wants to be liked”.
Law 2 “Everyone feels different inside (less confident, less able, etc.) from how they infer other people to feel”.
Law 3 “Few honest and courageous people who have achieved anything of real value in life do not feel a fraud much of the time”.[6]
https://en.wikipedia.org/wiki/David_Smail_(psychologist)
‘Twas but a reptile passing by.
It flew across the deep blue sky
Why do reptiles fly so high?
I’ll love you till I die.
“Twas but a cat under the moon.
Did you have a silver spoon?
Why can’t cats all waul in tune?
I’ll love you very soon
‘Twas but a wooden legged man,
Carrying a large brass saucepan.
Why can’t men do what women can?
I’ll love you better than.
Why are adverbs?
What are nouns?
why do circuses have clowns?
I’ll love you lying down.
Where do dreams go in the day?
What game can we adults play?
Can you or can you not say?
I’ll love you,in my way.
‘Twas but a verse that seemed so free.
It floated over my oak tree.
I have eyes but cannot see.
I’ll love you when I be be
How my heart sings 