Oh succulent mushrooms
how I do love you!
Such a little hafling I am
eating my mushrooms
as though I too had hairy feet
Why anyone would you think
that you smell or taste like death
is beyond me
For in my experience
what tastes like death
often has that in its happening
meat cut up by the butcher's knife
The essence of the smell
and the best of all its scents, to be sure
I have smelled death, and the dead
And not just those perfumed in parlors
covered in the sweet-smelling powders
That is not death, it is a lie
death smells like shame and fear
of things that happened which I cannot imagine
death does not smell like earth
it never smells like life
mushrooms are of the dirt
and scent as such and more
of loam and forests and creatures alive
it smells like childhood and mud
mushrooms are not like death at all
death roams the light, taking and giving
with impunity
mushrooms are things of the dark
growing in the dampness of life
like little umbrellas against the world.