Wednesday 7 May 2014

One of about 250 in a row from 'Palimpsest' by Klaus Høeck

ode to the smell of firewood smoke

firewood smoke swirls up
in the memory sharper
than grated wasa

bi and it fills out
the sinuses resulting
in a final sneeze –

no forty years or
fifty have passed – somewhere or
other everything

is the same as be
fore is itself just like the smell
of firewood smoke

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