Where the nose goes
nobody knows
its downslope bent
uncurls merriment
After a bout of virus
it won’t awake
the nose laments all
smells of peppermint
At night it runs around
amid roses and fishes
lemons and cloves but
the schnoz has anosmia
In the morning it sleeps
like a cat in a ring
if it can’t smell
maybe it can sing
Thar she blows
as big as a whale
in a hurricane gale
our well placed nose
If this short tale
got up your nose
tell me please
how’s it smell?
The Coming of the Toads 