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My sense of smell is ridiculous. If I could disconnect my nose from my brain, so my brain registered no smell, however wonderful, however evil, I would in a heartbeat.
I valued my sense of smell when I was young, always proud I could discern things other could not. Now it's a burden. I can't go anywhere without being disrupted by smell.
Oh strong-ridged and deeply hollowed
nose of mine! what will you not be smelling?
What tactless asses we are, you and I, boney nose,
always indiscriminate, always unashamed,
and now it is the souring flowers of the bedraggled
poplars: a festering pulp on the wet earth
beneath them. With what deep thirst
we quicken our desires
to that rank odor of a passing springtime!
Can you not be decent? Can you not reserve
for something less unlovely? What girl will care
for us, do you think, if we continue in these ways?
Must you taste everything? Must you know everything?
Must you have a part in everything?
. . . more 31 days posts . . .