the smell of earth

Posted: August 11, 2010 in Uncategorized
Tags: , , , , ,

when it rained she said it smelled like the earth. that put my mind inside the mass of molten what it is, that i believed to be under my feet, all the way to wherever. i smelled it carefully so as not to miss the earth . all i could smell was dirt. dirt that floated behind the blue bus careening down the bloody sunny roads. the rain trapping dirt particles and i am watching it, my hand bleeding rain into the sleeve of my old sweater. the cold small hardware of the umbrella tasted like it looked: nickel. this was way before i knew about money or much anything else.  so i licked my fingers slowly, enjoying the coldness of the rain and evaluated the earth smell. the dirt smell. the dust smell.  she wasn’t always right, i knew. much later in life i tried to tell Lou about the earth smell and he looked at me as if he was hearing some obscure dialect. in trying to be mean, he didn’t know how right he was. I keep thinking that there had been a whole series of wrongs, of lies, of misfires and miscalculated defeats. not the least of all, not the last of all, the smell of dirt. the smell of earth. the smell of dust. i smelled the same smell many times and I would see in my mind’s color blind eyes, the intensity of her enthusiasm. the high pitch of her sigh and the eyes that saw no one else. and I hoped for the Fall, wanting  to weep.


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