Fruiting Body
Worms in the leaf bed
Stems bend and streets end
Commonly the fruit bat reverie
With no lack
And growing on a whim
I found some pink glass
Buried under the deep end
Come near, find rest
When november admits it
Say something untrue and kind
Tuck me in and switch the light
There on the sun ledge
Wavering and plum green
Mint plant and cat friend
Watching something
And going at a wren
I warmed up, kicked ass
Fully under a deadline
Singing soundless
Pulling blood through a bad rhyme