ODE TO MY NOSE
Perfectly
positioned
On the front of my
face,
Protrude two
nostrils missioned
To cover a certain
space.
Mine,
appropriately shaped.
I don’t know about
the rest.
Some exquisitely draped
In the form
Romanesque.
Regardless, all of
them drip
From time to time
Falling toward the
lip
With an opaque
slime.
Though in a
dripping situation
That slime do I seethe,
I am grateful for
my station
As a person who
breathes.
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