The Ottomans couldn't modernise,
The Balkans couldn't benefit,
Yet suffered.
I was thinking - Imperialism.
But the dandelions in the lawn
Should come out.
So, I went out.
No shoes, of course, my norm.
And there, one, two, and counting
Three snails.
And bare foot male
And the risk of squashing.
I set them up,
A three snail race
A starting leaf
But no finishing line.
Too slow, I thought, to stay,
So back to the Balkan stage
A will to learn
Who lends? Who gains?
And then, funny thing, just two snails?
What had I done?
I need to check,
I'd missed the race, should've laid a bet.
How? Which? What? You should've seen,
Humping?
Orgasm?
What happened to the race?
In the grass, a mating scene.
Him arching,
Her stretching.
Snail two collateral with one.
Then off, at angles, back
To where?
Followed
By me and three
And well behind - a voyeur,
Or slow
Or old
He saw - or perhaps, she.
And the final check
Balkans at limbo
Snails a-gathering
By the tree.
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