This is a prelude to something else...

ARMILLARIA OSTOYAE



1.

Mycelium of frost on frail grass

lit up at this hour by saved

daylight says	spring's been born still

like a record is born	    only quickened 

by revolving		    the way my tongue

on your palm is a revolution

	     the way this starched town shrinks 

from its own ankles



          put the needle on the



huge orange moon hung

over Biogen by unseen forces		

        In runnels:      	sacramental wine

exceeds its object



2.

Easter morning: 	    all the spoons

bend around Holger Czukay shouting

        You've made a believer out of me



Long lines at the donut shop



Under Oregon

mycelium garners a rapture

           specimens as large as 1.6 million square feet



I shave poorly		      thrust the key 

into the lock		

                        not quite believing