Corpse Flower

~ Amorphophallus titanum

The week we were away, we missed
the moment the corpse flower finally
opened at the botanical gardens.
Its signature scent of rotten meat 
comes from cadaverine and putrescine, 
compounds that attract fruit flies and 
beetles. The insects think they've lucked out 
on carrion, and will pick up and scatter pollen 
on their way out. On our return, almost 
everyone we knew had stood in the line 
snaking past the orchid displays in the lobby,
out the glass doors and into the parking lot 
where someone's child was throwing 
a tantrum and begging to go home. 
They had bought tickets, of course—
one night only! As though the flower 
had agreed to this cabaret, and everyone 
was just waiting for the drumroll moment 
when the spathe heated up like a microwave 
and the spadix pushed out of its ruffled velvet 
skirts to  spread redolence in the air. Isn't that
how it is, though? We jostle our way through 
the crowd, rubberneck at the highway collision, 
wanting to know exactly what it looks and smells
like, this mysterious occurrence called death:
hiding in plain sight, inside life's dark mouth.