Elegy while watching "ASMR Mushroom Decomposes You Fungal Spa"

After Jocie B ASMR

O, my “delicious detritus,” I submit you to my solar
O, my “delicious detritus,” my solar
entirety, stalks of foamy data sprung from my ant-head,
fungal antennae compelling an insect-step to scale
compelling an insect
fungal antennae compiling an insect scale
the high ground and scatter
the spores. Soporific, here my lovely, this raging skeleton is
the spores. Honorific lovely, this noble skeleton is
yours. A week of forced epiphanies over you.
yours. Force.
I looked at the sun and thought of you.
I looked at the moon and thought of you.
I looked in the empty refrigerator and thought of you
dressed up like a death cap and
I began to decompose you.
began tenderly to decompose you.
Oh my sweet base case, rapture of
sweet, rupture of palm,
the palm of your hand, spank
the palm of your hand, spank
the palm of your hand, spank
my bottom line and me I’m getting better.
tell me I’m getting better.
my bottom line tell me
Tell me it’s ok to crumble, to be a sponge
soaked with someone else. Better, to lie
soaked by someone else. Better, to lie
soaked over someone else. Better, to lie
in a ravine scattered with the leaves that
shiver when I
shiver when I walk
shiver when I walk alone at
night. Now I am decomposing
you I am dutifully composting
I shall feed the bulb waiting for summer’s call. Collaborative
business model in embryo. Puritan
base case. In the fantasy of death, who
base case. In the fantasy of death, who
base case. In the fantasy of death, who
labors? Who wins? Surely I have never
labored? Who wins? Surely I have never
had a thought except to lean back now and let her
have a thought to lean back now and let her
lean back now and hear her
whisper, yes, my love, whisper, and rummage
in my cellular pretense for useful
information. I am beyond any use
they could have for me now
they could have me now
they could call my bathtub self-care radical
I forfeit my agency without shattering the soil
and the agency accepts the forfeit
let them let me
in my passivity locate the
damage they used to measure progress.

Jesslyn Whittell is a poet and grad student based in LA. Her work can be found in ANMLY, Black Warrior Review, The Rambling, and Lammargeier.