Toadstool

Draft of a poem about guilt

You sit on the toadstool
With your hukkah
With your hundreds of legs
And millions of eyes
Boring a hole into my fungused mind

I am the author of your smoke-rings
the creator of your smile
...and the architect of your
heartbreak
I bear my burden like a saprophyte

I know I have made a mistake.
Like bringing corpses to sunshine
Rain to a rotting field
Or unhappiness to you
I am the guilty mushroom
under your weight




Many thanks to PopCorn Joy for their review & help