You asked me for a poem about home and I remembered <br />that millions of years ago there was plenty of food for all <br />in the Garden of Eden and slugs <br />were well supplied with greenery and all was one big happy family <br />until slugs found that other species found them tasty <br />chocolate jellies or unjust desserts especially when after <br />a good night out they were, well, sluggish about getting home <br />and the sun came out and gulp quick as a slug of Jack <br />but spotting one night or was it day, a battered caravan <br />serai, it occurred that a portable home would be a good thing <br />to evolute. Became snails. Just took time. <br /> <br />Poetic point of this is for there is a point, that <br />human beings are much the same, there's the bricks and mortar thing <br />we call home but really home is <br />in the head or heart, we carry it with us, it's the place we go when <br />there's no other place to go. <br /> <br />And next time you feel a bit sluggish <br />about going to work, or like a snail unwillingly to school <br />you'll have to admit that Evolution <br />does a goddamned good job, a home in your backpack <br />beats commuting to work any day. Respect.<br /><br />Michael Shepherd<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/slugs-and-snails-and-homelovers-tales/
