Oh the balmy wind in my ears, my! My wet nose dried and re-wetted.
A fine dog-day afternoon in a world that was real, once. Once liveth.
The unhearing dog am I, I without my listening contraptions. How strange.
Somehow my nose both smells and listens. Listens sensations unsmelt of.
But I must run, give chase! Chase that bullet of a cat through the woods.
Hear the audible world through the nose. Nose never so gamey for action.
Never has this muzzle snuffed how. How goaty the roots of that curry tree.
So odorific the barks of my dog-fellows. Fellows from A Space Oddity.
Oh smell the nature, smell the wind, this! This Smellodramatic Wonderland.
Though my ears are vacuous yet. Yet the flowers ring a stink so similiar.
Now this fetid tepid laguna air. Air in the rank of certain danger.
A savory wind chimes in. In the smelling distance, it’s Bob and socks!
But the polecat reverts and we follow. Follow like fools to a funk.
Bob with the gun reports for duty. Duty resigns to the gods.
I can’t hear the shots but I smell them. Them smells of bacon and eggs.
I totter a tooth, the drama is done. Done! but the nose marches on …
Fatima Lasay, San Roque
Tuesday, March 4, 2014