The Snails Move Out

by Ian Macartney

Rain made the spiral houses
part away from each other
on gelatinous railways.
A town disbanded.
They migrated
across the pavement with
staircases on their backs.
Slugging through pools of their own body,
their Golden Ratios were crushed by feet
from above.
Living-rooms flooded in downpour,
a tear-drop apocalypse.
Fibonacci caved in.
The mangled fluid turned clay-red.
The others had to go,
before the eels they built their houses on
swam away in the flying water.