Poem for Saturday and What the Rain Brings

Mushrooms
By Sylvia Plath

Overnight, very
Whitely, discreetly,
Very quietly

Our toes, our noses
Take hold on the loam,
Acquire the air.

Nobody sees us,
Stops us, betrays us;
The small grains make room.

Soft fists insist on
Heaving the needles,
The leafy bedding,

Even the paving.
Our hammers, our rams,
Earless and eyeless,

Perfectly voiceless,
Widen the crannies,
Shoulder through holes. We

Diet on water,
On crumbs of shadow,
Bland-mannered, asking

Little or nothing.
So many of us!
So many of us!

We are shelves, we are
Tables, we are meek,
We are edible,

Nudgers and shovers
In spite of ourselves.
Our kind multiplies:

We shall by morning
Inherit the earth.
Our foot’s in the door.

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Friday was a not-too-hot though very humid day -- the wood on the deck never got dry, and it felt sticky out walking, where the bunnies have re-emerged after all the rain but so have giant fungi and little slugs. I had a bunch of stuff to get done in the afternoon, with a lot of cat help, then we had dinner with my parents and came home for this week's Burden of Truth. Here are some of the mushrooms and molluscs we saw around the neighborhood (goddess for scale): 

 

Our Friday night movie was Reminiscence, which stylistically is straight-up techno-noir and felt like a mashup of a lot of better movies I love (Minority Report, Eternal Sunshine of the Spotless Mind, Inception, Dark City) with inevitable Jackman-Ferguson Greatest Showman vibes and lots of Westworld parallels in visual structure and Newton-Sarafyan casting. The cast, even minor players, elevated the material, as did New Orleans standing in for future-flood-ravaged Miami, but I wish more of it felt original.