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Mushrooms

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Like silent naked monks huddled
around an old tree stump, having
spun themselves in the night
out of thought and nothingness—

And God so pleased with their silence
He grants them teeth and tongues.

Like us.

How long have you been gone?
A child’s hot tears on my bare arms.




Source: Poetry (April 2011)

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This poem originally appeared in the April 2011 issue of Poetry magazine

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Mushrooms

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