My nostril smells awesome inside of my nose,
a bit like the bloom of a newly-picked rose.
It started this morning--I couldn't say why--
and all day it's smelled like banana cream pie.

It has the aroma of freshly-baked bread
with hot melted butter and blackberry spread,
and maybe the breeze of a warm afternoon,
that follows a thunderstorm early in June.

It smells like a pine forest, right by a lake,
and chocolate chip cookies my mom likes to bake,
like kettle corn pop-popping over a fire,
and laundry, the moment it's out of the dryer.

My nostril smells awesome, so I have a plan
to sit and enjoy it as long as I can.
Don't ask how it happened; I really can't say.
Perhaps it's my finger that's smelling this way.

--Kenn Nesbitt

This poem appears in the book
My Hippo Has the Hiccups