Sense of smell

Victory in safeguarding liberty in my pocket

in that regard I consider from my dog’s vociferations

yes the military service of deserters is granted

The scrutiny of thought has not ceased to cross

overhead with a cat organic with fraternal spirit

terrible animal under swaths of felt

Nonetheless I get excited in the water a piece of wrack

that monotonous vexations bare feet

eyes in old stares amuse

Skepticism strophe of happiness realized illusion

when you can in butterflies’ skin live

you enter therein like mirrored flowers

It’s too much something sensible in life

upon my pride a phenomenon of country lawn

set up on magical oblivion

And now seeps out sensual exercise

love’s joys making suffer the unexpected

earshaped geometry

Francis Picabia