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The stench of reconciliation.

by Eli Skipp

this morning smells a certain way, rancid, sour,
it smells like the memory of another sweaty, humid, Miami morning and it makes me shiver.

the world should know that i am the dirty finger-nail trends of my generation,
our generation.
it should fully comprehend our spoiled discontent,
and so deny us this blessing.

the fragrance of the tri-rail, of dirty streets,
of hitchiking in ignorance and the desperation of cardboard signs,
it's linked with the music i'd known and the people I'd kissed,
and the dirty blankets I'd so embodied,
and it stinks.

it reeks.
this stench of floating docks and failed relationships,
it is foul and filthy,
it is the protective malodor that penetrates horrid emotions,
the fumes of lost loves and hatred.

once, you wore the cologne of my ex-lover,
you wore it on your cheeks and your hair,
and it permeated.
I feared your lap and your arms for the briefest moment that you were this being incarnate in scent alone,
for that is this sense's power.

those events, like animals,
lay their smells in the fissured territory of our skulls,
and with fierceness,
eat our lives away.


Author's Note: maybe it's just me that so associates smell to things? maybe not. oh angst.

Posted on 04/03/2006
Copyright © 2022 Eli Skipp

Member Comments on this Poem
Posted by Chris Sorrenti on 04/03/06 at 04:53 PM

Hmmm...although I love certain smells, like bread crusts, a roast cooking, Oscar Delarenta perfume, I moreso associate songs to things, or more specifically events and people I hung out with at the time any given song was popular. Don't Dream It's Over (the original 1987 version by Crowded House) is a good example. My ex and I were going through a painful separation at the time. Ever since then, whenever I hear that song, it reminds me of that period in my life.

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