Fungus
There is a fungus among us,
and it is growing very fat.
hidden in the cracks of memory,
I wouldn't go so far as that.
Favorite food of cicadas,
it grows amid the quacks.
Niches left unforgotten,
by self-respecting hacks.
It calcifies old brain cells,
leaves no distinguishing marks.
But infiltrates innermost senses,
blocking forward while it parks.
Into the minds of many,
remembering Semper Fi.
Forgetting what was lost,
on that adrenaline high.
A long forgotten belief,
in the strong over the weak,
survival of the wealthy,
to hell with the meek.
Beware the fungus among us,
we must reverse its course,
Unless we wish backward thinking,
is a way to end this verse.
Fungus Turning a Tarantula Into a Zombie
Courtesy the University of Melbourne
Having survived fungus on my lungs, I hope that
parasite hasn't penetrated the brains of so
many wishful thinkers wanting the 1950s to
come back in the 21st century. Surely that
parasite has had time in these old codgers
to penetrate the blood/ÓÓÓbrain barrier handily.
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Copyright 2020 © Ronald W. Hull
5/13/21
It's in the Water and Other Stories
American Mole: The Vespers
select 4/to nine Verge of Apocalypse Tales