Bloodied, but still singing, the atmosphere is not a perfume it is odorless addresses America. In one take, a chromapoetics that examines the “red, white and blue’s” dubious semiotics, in another, an extended ode project that conjures our emblems of Empire, the poems in atmosphere––in their configurations of apostrophe, atomization, song, dialectic, eucharism, etc.––attempt to neutralize the personal, cultural and environmental dis-ease of 21st c America.