Fear
The odor of death In the front of my body. The odor of death Before me —
Is there any one Who would weep for me? My wife Would weep for me.
Alice Corbin Henderson
The odor of death In the front of my body. The odor of death Before me —
Is there any one Who would weep for me? My wife Would weep for me.
Right away, you’re inside the body of someone who knows death is close. The poem opens with a blunt, unnerving image: the smell of death, not somewhere in the room but “in the front of my body.” It’s intimate and visceral, as if decay has already begun or fear itself has taken on a physical form.
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