sonora2sonoma

I walked into my kitchen

a short while ago

in a rote and dispassionate manner

prepared, though unaware of it

for an ordinary experience.

 

What occurred instead was, not dramatic,

not compelling,

and, of relative inconsequentiality;

‘Peculiar’ may describe it best.

 

It began with an odor

faint, with fruity overtones

that varied in intensity by location,

that announced itself

in general terms–

diffuse, understated–

seeking recognition,

daring  identification.

 

And. just when I was beginning to see

how disappointingly at odds

with ‘ordinary’

the experiencing then underway

was turning out to be,

 

An aroma of arresting intensity

made its sudden presence known.

An order of magnitude stronger

than the feeble tang

that preceded it.

 

A stink assertively strong

confident, proud and unapologetic

precise in its focus

explicit by intent . . .

 

A smell bearing remarkable resemblance

to a particularly distressing

and unmistakably recognizable

and, unfortunately, unforgettable

flavor of flatulence.

 

A scent with gravitas

authority

pedigree

shoving aside all doubt

to its authenticity

while it dares you

to deny you know its name.

 

And I was the only one home

at the time.

 

And I looked out the window

across the way

to where you used to live

 

When you were living

 

And the synthesis of these two ideas

like brain Leggos remapping new neural pathways

made me wonder if there really is such a thing

as ghosts

and

if so

if you’d just dropped by to leave us a scented message

a gaseous note

from the void.

 

2016.01.20

Tim Konrad