Poetry 2013 / Volume 44

Odors — Richard Dinges, Jr.

These manuals hold black
fingerprints, oil odors
from forty years ago,
old tractors and cold
iron parts pictured
in breakdowns, blown
apart and numbered,
pulled from dusty shelves,
an archive of a shop
where farmers cradled
greasy coffee cups
and murmured comments
about weather and grain
prices, absorbed by these
manuals and released
in old oil odors.

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