Analysis of THE FUNGOID



Endless hulking thing
Loathsome green and rotting,
Like vegetable mass,
A roiling mountain of slime
Hovering way overhead.

Suspended for hours
Then curling back and bunching
Up into itself,
A bloated mass of green slime
Like an ocean of jelly.

Pulsing and roiling
Like an animal, not plant
The fungoid growth churns,
Seething, writhing, and swirling
A moving mountain of slime.

Pustules like footballs
Cover the fungoid,
Splitting open suddenly,
Disgusting ichor pouring
In waves down the slime mountain.

Glistening wet mass
Of vegetable matter,
Amorphous fungus
Soars into the sky; ready
To drop on intended prey.

Mammoth pseudopods
Of fungus, weighing thousands,
Or millions of tonnes
Curl out in front of victims
Blocking off their escape path.

Other pseudopods
(Mounds of muck ten metres tall!)
Falling round its prey
Slickening with slimy fluid,
As great pustules burst open.

Flowing fungoid growth
Massive amoeboid monster,
Rising higher and higher,
Like a tsunami Rearing,
Readying to crash.

A green, fetid ooze
Pouring continually,
Down a slime mountain
Reabsorbed by the body,
Before it touches the ground.

Pseudopods rearing
Sentient (or at least with
tremendous instinct),
Lurching toward likely prey
Outmanoeuvring its victims.

Ever forming new fingers,
To replace old ones,
Fungal pseudopods
Slopping, sploshing, and squishing,
Swaying obscenely forward.

Oozing corrosives
Goo that can eat through metal,
More destructive than
An industrial acid,
Penetrating any wall.

The slime burns right through
Glass and metal, entering
Any hideaway,
Melting through brick and mortar
Plastic, even hardened steel.

Impervious to
Anything but fire,
Pulpy pseudopods of slime
Retreating from any flame,
Frying and dying in heat.

Sentient goo wavers
Flowing toward the flames,
To try dousing the fire,
Trembling at each fiery lick
Pustules bursting like balloons.

The pustules become
Pockmarks in the fungoid’s flesh,
Slimy muck blackens,
Smokes, withers and falls away
From the whooshing flame-throwers.

Fungus shrivelling
Under the flame-throwers’s heat,
Rising and falling
Like tides in an angry sea,
As the fungoid slowly dies.

THE END
© Copyright 2021 Philip Roberts
Melbourne, Victoria, Australia


Scheme AABCD EAXCF AXXAC XDFAG BHXFI BJJKX BLIMG XHHAX XFGFX AXXIK EJBAX BXGML NAIHX NHCXO BXHXX XXJIE AOAFX XXX
Poetic Form
Metre 10101 101010 11001 0101011 1001101 010110 1101010 10101 0101111 1110110 10010 1110011 0111 1010010 0101011 111 1001 1010100 010110 0110110 10011 110010 01010 1010110 1110101 101 1101010 11011 1101110 1011011 101 1111101 10111 111010 111110 1011 10110 1010010 1001010 10011 01101 1001000 10110 011010 0111001 110 11111 01010 1001101 1110 1010110 1111 101 1101 10010010 101 1111110 10101 1010010 100101 01111 1010100 1010 1011010 1010101 01001 10110 1111 0101101 1001001 111 100101 1110010 100111001 110101 0101 10011 10110 1100101 101110 101 100111 10010 1101101 101101 01 101010 100100010
Closest metre Iambic trimeter
Characters 2,123
Words 335
Sentences 19
Stanzas 18
Stanza Lengths 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 5, 3
Lines Amount 88
Letters per line (avg) 20
Words per line (avg) 4
Letters per stanza (avg) 100
Words per stanza (avg) 19

About this poem

Endless hulking thing Loathsome green and rotting, Like vegetable mass, A roiling mountain of slime Hovering way overhead.

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Written on February 16, 2009

Submitted by PHIL_ROBERTS on June 25, 2021

Modified on March 05, 2023

1:40 min read
1

Phil Roberts

I turn 65 on the 31st of January 2022. I love cats, rock music, and horror fiction and poetry more…

All Phil Roberts poems | Phil Roberts Books

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