Odors- a five minute dog for the hippies
I stink-
All the time I stink-
from my tangled, rat's nest hair
to the fleshy valleys between my toes-
I stink-
and I can smell it constantly-
I can smell the aromas
growing out of their bushy flowerpots
like wreathes of smoke
sort of rummaging the ground
scavenging the air-
foraging for more matter to
annex-
They always get the best
of my nostrils, the fine hairs
that sift out the uselessness
and usher in life's essentials
down the tubes- I never know
who elses-
oh, the smells they take on a life of their own
they can't be stopped
they smirk I imagine
at my naive squirts of perfume
the cruddy flour of anti-perspirants-
sometimes I wish I could just
meet a big lump of smell pots
and we could wander around everywhere
stinking together, or live in
a stink-plump community
where everyone was rank
and happy together-
and we could save that extra
5 dollars that goes to waste
on deodorant for maybe
another cookie, or a book,
a bike bolt or some flax-seed.
All the time I stink-
from my tangled, rat's nest hair
to the fleshy valleys between my toes-
I stink-
and I can smell it constantly-
I can smell the aromas
growing out of their bushy flowerpots
like wreathes of smoke
sort of rummaging the ground
scavenging the air-
foraging for more matter to
annex-
They always get the best
of my nostrils, the fine hairs
that sift out the uselessness
and usher in life's essentials
down the tubes- I never know
who elses-
oh, the smells they take on a life of their own
they can't be stopped
they smirk I imagine
at my naive squirts of perfume
the cruddy flour of anti-perspirants-
sometimes I wish I could just
meet a big lump of smell pots
and we could wander around everywhere
stinking together, or live in
a stink-plump community
where everyone was rank
and happy together-
and we could save that extra
5 dollars that goes to waste
on deodorant for maybe
another cookie, or a book,
a bike bolt or some flax-seed.