Patricia Young has a lovely poem in An Auto-Erotic History of Swings which has the speaker in love with a mushroom collecting girl. The poem is filled with mycological references: morels, puffballs, hens of the woods, slippery jacks, cauliflower fungi. The ending is very smart. Our speaker turns into a treasure, a mushroom picker’s treasure.
for I am sick as an old conk, darker than a truffle
buried in damp earth. For love of the mushroom
picker I lie on the forest floor and break down break
down break down into a pestilence of sweet rot.
The lusciousness achieved by the repetition and the enjambement is an echo of the “Fruiting Bodies” of the title as they ripely burst.
And so for day 908