Treading carefully
Lu-ma-ca, es-car-got was how I knew them, Three-syllabled slugs with shells and antennae; I warmed to the sound of their names as much As them. But ‘snail’ has quite another effect; I loved it less, this glutinous gender-bending mollusc, Sly hugger of the dark side of our terrace flowerpots And the undersides of damp garden things, curled In fallen autumn leaves or clumped into compost. We see them, the mornings after rain, slinking Their way across the pavement, up walls. I tread Carefully, to avoid the sickening crunch of shell Underfoot, the gulping back of guilt. All things Considered, they’ve had bad press: dismissed as Pests, disdained for being slothful—a symbolism Foisted on them in haste—at best, they’re routinely Transmogrified into a delicacy of buttered up and Garlicked steaming shells in wine to feed another Deadly sin—our drift to gluttony. Small wonder They move slowly, carrying the weight of judgment Coiled heavy on their backs. But how many of us know That snails respond to having their shells caressed? Originally published in Brushstrokes II, Ros Spencer Poetry Contest Anthology 2020–21 (WA Poets Publishing, November 2021) Author bio Denise O’Hagan is an award-winning editor and poet, born in Rome and based in Sydney. With a background in commercial book publishing in London and Sydney, she set up her own imprint, Black Quill Press, in 2015 to assist independent authors. Recipient of the Dalkey Poetry Prize, her work appears in various journals including The Copperfield Review, The Ekphrastic Review, Quadrant, Books Ireland, Eureka Street and Hecate. Her second poetry collection, Anamnesis, is due to be published in October 2022 (Recent Work Press). https://denise-ohagan.com
Fevers of the Mind 