Poem #351 of 365

that cookie tasted awful,
like refrigerator--
but then, i smell like carport
and my cat smells like coal mine.

then to the parked car,
neglected and undisinfected.

i sniff and tell:
the backseat, of oranges and brake fluid,
and the floorboard, of moldy vanilla.

i have a sharp nose,
its sense of smell
propels me to the kitchen
to see what now
i’ve burned.

blackened skillets,
streams of smoke,

i hold them out the window,
see the vapor get took.
and the backyard takes
one great whiff.

you bet i can cook,
you bet i can burn,
when i feel it in
all of my senses.

well done.

copyright 2007 tammy melody gomez