They say the universe is full of smells In fact tests on astronaut's suits Have indicated this much was true It seems- they say- that there are faint Traces of metallic smells you see? Not the stink of leather and bourbon Which emanates from my friend Robin Or the sweaty funk that lingers Where my obese neighbour goes There are- to put it quite simply- None of the rich earthy smells That one associates with life or living In the cold realms of outer space There are just the smells One would find in a science lab In other words metals and the Faint perfume of vaporous gasses Seeping from stars and planets In perpetual extra-terrestrial fartings Out there- where there are Strange cosmic happenings that Would blow your mind- The universe they say is positively stinking Reeking to high heavens You could say... Though of course, we can really never know For sure And that is what bothers us- Humans, in general, that is- We don't like being reminded Just how finite we are When we are surrounded By all that marvellous infinity
I wrote this poem after watching a program about conceptual art in which one artist had started a project after hearing that astronaut suits had traces of scent on them and they felt this had hinted at how space was full of smells. I dedicated it to a guy who I like very much and who it is noted has the smell of bourbon and leather and his daughter Emilie who was a good friend from the early days of the internet and who was obsessed with space and was, in fact, one of those people who could be called and Unearthly Child.She is no longer with us, to our great loss. I dedicate this poem to them.
This poem will feature in the new collection of poems Little Paper Fishes which will be released early next year.