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2949to the literary circle

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  • Cbrady
    Oct 14, 2005
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      Speaking of poetry, this one really blew me away this morning.
      c/e

      The Writer's Almanac for Friday, October 14, 2005
      Poem: "Smell and Envy" by Douglas Goetsch from Nobody's Hell. © Hanging
      Loose Press.

      Smell and Envy

      You nature poets think you've got it, hostaged
      somewhere in Vermont or Oregon,
      so it blooms and withers only for you,
      so all you have to do is name it: primrose
      —and now you're writing poetry, and now
      you ship it off to us, to smell and envy.

      But we are made of newspaper and smoke
      and we dunk your roses in vats of blue.
      Birds don't call, our pigeons play it close
      to the vest. When the moon is full
      we hear it in the sirens. The Pleiades
      you could probably buy downtown. Gravity
      is the receiver on the hook. Mortality
      we smell on certain people as they pass.
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