Have you seen The Mushroom Men?
They come out each night at half-past ten,
Spreading spores from their stores of spores
To furnish the fens with fungi galore!
They have a secret kingdom beneath the earth,
A place of mycelia, merriment, and mirth,
And once the stars a-shining they see,
Thence begins their mycological jamboree!
Through the use of their mycelial magic,
They spread toadstools, molds, jellies, and brackets,
And ‘twould be considered a sartorial mishap,
If an imp were withouten a handsome ink-cap!
So, let the fungal festivities begin!
Angels of Decay ushering happiness in,
These cancerous mushrooms will rise and rise,
Until they tower like mountains before our eyes,
Death-caps as large at the Taj Mahal –
Custardy molds consuming shopping malls –
(And since Donald Trump won the US election,
The White House also has a fungal infection!)
What a fine panorama atop this portabello!
From its summit I will bellow:
“Come out – come out – ye Mushroom Men!
Though it is not yet half-past ten,
We wish to look upon the overlords,
Who have, so thoroughly, transformed our world!”
Out will venture Oberon and Titania –
And Robin Goodfellow singing ‘Rule Britannia!’
With a charming procession of elves and fays,
Using shitake mushrooms as timpani
Enoki as mallets – and after a few psilocybin,
Soon this party will really be jiving!
Magonia and earth will be as one –
And we won’t stop dancing till Doomsday is done!
Alas! ‘Twas but a dream I’ve tried to relate
To you, dear reader, in poetic spates,
For now, their kingdom is still small;
But, if down the rabbit hole you’re willing to fall
We can grow great with The Mushroom Men,
And The Kings of Shambhala will rule again!