smells Q As to the blathe on name, it should be noted, as the Bard did, that a rose, by any other name, smells as sweet. 020625 ... alice like shit 020728 ... Fido Numberless scents I sense tonight In the hueless streets at night; As the city-symphony fades, And I go into my private place, Which is really just the public space, Saved for me and me alone To sniff alone in trampy ways. Leave me to my rats and filth, They are mine, mine wretched ilk. I sniff mine rear without a shame And play the Rat Man's jazzy game In this ephemeral paradiso My rump is the Roman's myth-sayer And I am the descender into redness, Into the Infernol gates of Dawn! 040428 ... raze new car and new computer smells have always been wrapped up in something deeply satisfying for me. i don't know what it is. maybe i like to inhale the newness of things. maybe it makes me feel like a kid again. people are the best, though. when you get close enough to breathe them in, they always smell like something new. 131002 ... ovenbird In a recent conversation with my father he mentioned his father’s toolbox—the one he’s had in his possession for decades. And, immediately, it came to me in the form of an olfactory memory. I’m not sure I’ve ever had a smell arise in my mind in such vivid detail. It felt like I had just opened the lid of that box and pulled back the chamois cloth and was breathing in the scent of metal and oil. It was a clean smell, somehow, and the tools were well maintained and gleaming. It was more than a recollection. It felt like I was actually breathing in the complex smell the toolbox contained. My grandfather was mostly absent from my life, but there were signs of his presence. The toolbox with its yellow clasps being one. A photograph hanging in the hallway, that was suspected to be a Karsh, being another. Maybe I remember the smell of the toolbox so well because it was one of the only tangible connections I had to a man who I mostly had to imagine. And maybe I tucked the image I made in between the wrenches and hex keys and screwdrivers and left it there until it was suddenly unearthed and everything wafted out into the air and dispersed and touched me like a ghost on its way to its final dispersion. 260327 what's it to you? who go blather from