The American Oven

THE AMERICAN OVEN

So what is this greatness that I smell?
Is it the smell of fresh warm bread, the sweetness
from flowers, the seductive smoke of cigarettes,
the print of newspapers and newly published
books? What is this odor of greatness swirling
around our nation’s sky? Does it touch the workers
in stores and factories, the children in locker rooms
after games, the women bowed in churches
before the caskets of the dead? What smell
embraces the earth of things, blue, brown and
in between? This American greatness, this burning,
this terrible thunder, this smell so unsettling
to the ear, this blinding pride and arrogance,
this hollow victory over dissent, which we cover
with flags, pious gestures and salutes, this burial
of being first. What must be great again is what
is found that wasn’t lost. This smell so invisible
to the poor, so tasteless to the rich, this fragrance
of freedom once inhaled by slaves, this smell
of hope, this endless hunger for tomorrow,
so choking and undefined.

- E. Ethelbert Miller