Liquid Crystal Fibonacci

Slug's
Lung

could be
a band name
Slug's Lung—a punk band
neo-classical slime rhythms
drummer wears optical tentacle helmet, bassist
slime-trails rhythm across the stage
The vocalist screams
VINEGAR
SEA SALT

like
death—
poison
to mankind
or Slug's Lung could be
the slow, oozing trombone solos
of a three-thirty AM bar band, patrons waiting
for love inside a whiskey glass
bartender ready
to close down
the night
Green
slug
tough-skinned
fleshy lobe
mollusk lacks a shell
but secretes a film of mucus
terrestrial across the lawn, smells the marigold
That blowhole on the side glistens
in the rain, backbone-
like skin ridge
greases
wet
ground
hungry
on Sunday
for the religion
of marigolds, born-again slugs
feasting on love, sensory tentacles tingling, mouth
nibbling, thousands of teeth grinding
Amputate its tail
to escape
a snake
same
way
a man
will let go
a lie, little lie
to save his ass, slice the honest
from his body the way a slug chews off its partner's
penis after mating—coital
love in the garden
crystal slime
liquid
goo-
stick