The fungal thread of death by John Lucas

It was a damp summer

all the gutters leaked

into my mansion

Rotten plaster and window frames

The fungal thread of death.

I played squash like a maniac

Every week. The showers

were humid and smelt quite bad.

My feet too. Smelly trainers.

The fungal thread of death.

I went organic. Green spuds

and tomatoes too. Chemical free.

By August they were all black and putrid

The fungal thread of death.

I printed this poem

on high grade handmade paper.

The sweetest cellulose. Quite soon

It was spotty and almost gone.

The fungal thread of death.

By  John Lucas ( unfortunately to late for publishing in the book)

Originally sourced from the PoemCatcher

Leave a Reply