Forgetting Air

Some spring mornings in Fort Morgan,
stepping into the parking lot,
crossing the mowed lawn of campus,
it is easy to forget about air.

The breeze is strong and clean and sweet,
oddly lacking our factories’ famous scent:
cheesy beef beet poop soup. Relief!
The smell of money went walking somewhere.

But then, entering the building,
we are greeted with night’s awful breath,
inhaled and held by brick and mortar
long before morning wind kicked in.

A building cannot exhale through a new day’s
shortly opened doors. We enter the stench,
take our usual breaths, filter, forget:
like inevitable death, it fills us.


3 Responses to “Forgetting Air”

  1. Fey says:

    So you think we create our own internal beet beef poop soup .?
    Tragic. I say. You is right

    • wordweed says:

      Yes, I think we let it in, have to air it out. But on a literal level, do you remember walking into MCC and smelling the famous soup first thing in the morning?

  2. eduardo says:

    That title. I see it referring to one’s forgetting about the soon-to-be encountered “cheesy beef beet poop soup” scent, once they’ve stepped indoors from the sweet wind-cleansed outdoor air. I also see the building(s) own forgetfulness of the same wind-cleansed outer air.

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