there's a guy on my hall, Tom, who was recently struck by the virus plaguing swarthmore -
24 hours of spewing from body's both ends
he surmised the other day that the illness has run so rampant because the dining hall employees don't well enough wash their hands
most of all he suspected silverware.
today, after Vicki delivered my spinach omelet,
I went to retrieve myself silverware
spoon, knife, fork
and as I selected that last implement, I caught an immediate whiff of something foul -
untraceable, gone, unrecognizable
as I conducted my tray away,
I thought about other smell moments -
like the time that older weighty jumpsuited Asian fellow approached me in the bart station and slowly peppered me with questionsso I wondered for a bare moment how I could test whether the stink was a sign
where was I going, did I live there, was I from San Francisco
until he finally asked me to come with him
he was a queer old josser
just as he first neared me, the distinct odor of men's restroom hit me hard, I remember thinking where did this come from?
and soon I knew
but the whole point of intuition is that it's unprovable,
so I went with it
probably saved my life.