"Spores" also appeared in Mother Tongues, Winner of The Cupboard's 2015 Chapbook Contest
After Brooke disappeared, I peered into the dim, cramped displays of mushrooms projecting from mossy rocks alone. They were so rubbery and phallic, mushrooms. So many of them seemed to grow toward the center of the room. They clung to the glass like bathtub suction cups or what have you. And there was something absurdly depressing about touring the exhibit on my own, walking about so many spores. It was like I had been enlisted in some sort of fungal porn.