(Are you coming or going from unfamiliarplace.com ?)

Thursday, February 24, 2011

for the nose

poem I rummaged up (summer 2009) (very perplexing)


the big nose

Life is a big nose—
a too big
and rife with danger
“Poetry Is My Country
and I Canst Not Change Her”

In some hour of need where the flowers grew
God bless those blanketed by snow
God bless the snows that lie atop our sparrow;
what use was its nose?

But in my hour of need when I plant the seed
the warmful air is stirred by sparrow’s wing (offering);
I inhale the country of the poetry,
I inhale it when it snows

but life is not worth living for;
you live it for the nose


you guys noses are not even that great


  1. Perplexing, but also fascinating. A personal question, perhaps, but do you remember what was running through your head when you wrote this?

  2. If my memory doesn't deceive me, I believe it was in winter when (as an earlier version of the poem includes) "the smell [of snow] is nothingness or death"; it was probably revelling in the slightest bit of "life" one could smell, or something.
    I do find the "you live it for the nose" fascinating...