my legs astride its pedestal,
inhaling cinnamon-spiced hallucinogens
from the spores that pass
between the mushroom and my pen.
I’m sitting at a square-topped toadstool
inspired to seed the forest in which I live
with words inscribed on paper leaves
that grow on terraced nourishment
surrounding this mushroom place.
I’m sitting at a table toadstool
inside a café inside a bookstore
inside alternate realities found
in books trying to create possibilities
out of the magic practiced here.
I’m sitting at a toadstool among many
watching phantom toads be toads
while I pretend to be a novelist even
while I know my pen is being guided
by inhabitants of this fairy forest.
12/10/08
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| Toadstool in Florida by Jeter Skeet |
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