Now can I get you to smell this stuff
And if so how
Burnt Skin
Roast on human spits
Smoked over oil flamed leaves
Diesel or Gas
Exhausted
Float off before the fall
Thin return
In early winter
Eerie atmosphere
How can I get you to smell this stuff
Would it be easier if it were your mother
Kick, crunch underfoot
Stand erect, breathe slow
Remember
No more white berries
My Edwardian friend
Down Broadway’s broad walks
Each different house
Today expect the bay
A front room for the dead to lay
How can I get you to smell this stuff
Would it be easier if it were your failure
Missed it
Must not able to afford
Explain to them
The aroma