Two Poems about Mushrooms

I
Rich sweet earth smell of mushrooms
teases me from the garden
unrecognised feast or fatal temptation?
But wait, this stirs memories
I am old, death is anyway close
I will go where lead, butter fry
and eat with finest wine.

Yes this is exquisite, the same
as I ate years ago in joy
of survival, sensual reality
of food after death had threatened
after a boot had held my head
to the soil, a gun in my mouth
and my only comfort the
rich sweet earth smell of mushrooms.

(previously published in Envoi)

II
We went north for mushrooms –

boletes for frying gently in butter for omelettes,
elusive apricot scented chanterelles promising heavenly flavour,
common false chanterelles stubbornly unscented, unflavoured,
bright fly agaric dramatic for danger.

On the other side of the world
kamikaze pilots
sowed the seeds
for the next mushroom cloud.


previously published in Raindog