Several basket stinkhorn mushrooms, Clathrus ruber, at varying stages of development.
Alien egg, or bee-spun globe
the size of a toddler's head
sleeping in its bed
of sedums and mud.
At first no more than a marshmallow,
round and mute as an amnion.
Inside, a fungus fossil blooms
a basket of brains.
Come closer, whiff the perfume
of putrescence, a dead ringer
for summer-baked carrion.
You'll catch more flies
with stench than maple syrup
and this is no waffle worth eating.
Stand aside. Let the insects
scatter saprobes as they soar.