Uncommon Names

The English Adam blanched and fell silent
when he got to mushrooms. We who know them now
must learn dead languages: cyanescens, Psathyrella;
or foreign ones: matsutake, chanterelle.
In English they seem silly, borrowed clothes
from a woman on a motorcycle, fairy rings, even the angel
of death -- and anyway our neighbors never understand

how we scrabble for our dinner at the edges of their lawns.
They argue the inheritance of all our wordly goods
when we bring home our quarry from the woods
or our dreams from the wood-chip pile. We smile,
make our sporeprints and check the Audobon Guide;
it's all spelled out in there, but arcana anyway.

Our scholars have debated this one to death
and it isn't true, but it's easy to see:
Eve, openmouthed, on her knees in the Garden
watching the nameless ones fruit from the earth,
red and white like the sunrise after thundering rain.