Filthy stinking
mucky grime
oozing down the
sides of some unknown
unlabeled chalice
from the far reaches of
of the refrigerator.
Spores erupt in a
pestilent puff:
a noxious cloud of
vile, fuzzy mitosis
floating forth when
contents are unearthed.
Tubers in an
array of colors
softened with age
and furred by
poor storage,
a dried end withered
like an untended
amputation;
the forgotten
unused half of
an ingredient
rotting slowly in
a crisper drawer
beneath the
brown apples.
Stalwart packaging,
plastic overwrap
unmaimed,
the fungus is doubly
grown, caps turned to
black slime, stalks
fallen out, split and spoilt.
An aborted risotto,
now an alien pool
of earthily-smelling
sludge.













