Never since that one night have I attended
A party as a mushroom—not that I'm
Too proud to be a fungus, though the absence
Of chlorophyll and the proud necessity
Of feeding on, what shall we say? defunct
Organic matters doesn't suggest ballrooms.
It's more that we are only flora once,
Some roses, spinach some, we soon outgrow
Our vegetable natures. Aged between
An ugly plant and lesser carnivore,
I fared better than most. And when I saw
The lamp and found my motor skills, I yet,
In the way of a vermiform appendix,
Concealed a mushroom nature. Though by night
They come and go, by day, if you can pick
The right one, they afford a minor garnish.
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