In the ears, I've forgotten what
rhyme, rhythm, and melody stand for.
There instead flies from me, where I sit,
impulses to remember
why these sounds are acting like smells.
It's my nose that takes me to the past
and today it is in fine form,
back to Georgetown and Princeton,
probably the expensive fertilizer
riled up by the lawnmower by the trail.
And I was sitting on top of two wheels then as well.
Now it's four legs
and who knows how many songs.

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