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Photo by Candia Dixon-Stuart

‘Honey fungus’ sounds

so sweet;  you could eat

us with spaghetti,

but we are bitter.


Oh, Sylvia Plath

had a point, you know.

Mushrooms already

inherit the Earth.


From a single spore,

we grow filaments.

Serial killers,

we’re parasitic.


Empires were falling

when we wove our mat.

We will persevere

till Apocalypse.


You had the Chi Rho –

its relevance gone?

We are the shiro:

our truth marches on.


What is the shiro?

Mycelium mass.

In a fairy ring,

we’re Nature’s badass.


Show humility,

you human beings!

Prostrate yourselves and

smell the petrichor.


Beneath the surface

lie all our pathways

and our excreta

neutralises waste.


Fruiting above ground,

we’re antiviral;

eat bacteria;



Your vast mushroom clouds

by name insult us.

We can be saviours –

re-cycle murder.




a common purpose,

a global network.


No mission statement

is necessary

to sum up our goal:

world domination.