... and having sought a second opinion from friendly expert, Bruce Langridge, this does seem to be the correct conclusion.
In any event, I didn't make mushroom soup with it. I wrapped it up, put it in the dustbin and washed my hands. Dog safe, partner safe, poem written. 😎
From the chronicles of trees
she wants monsters
baleful Destroying Angels,
stellar brides of hell
all innocence and virulence
in petticoats and veil,
or troops of gleaming Death Caps
goose-stepping through leaves
marshalling for massacre
in copses, killing fields, as if
escape clutched in her hand might gift
In forests damp and warm
in thickets blanketed by spores
the Prince with Devil’s Fingers
knows their secret, loamy holes.
He can smell them, see them, feel them swelling
opening the ground
thrusting through the litter
with a hungry, crackling sound.
He finds her Velvet Shanks and Blushers
puts an Amethyst Deceiver in her hand.
In the sultry, starless dark,
she’ll settle for a zodiac
of flesh and pearls and earth.