Smells of the City

Downtown, the rich and poor side by side. Photo by Wendy Snyder.

Bus exhaust gas out
Urine metro corner
Which goes away
With passing rain

Strong musk perfume
Delicate nose

Strong unwashed person
Has no home
More perfume
Too loud for
Delicate nose

Pot-wafting clothes
I move aside
Smokers corner
Makes me move faster

Urine wall
Waits for sanitizing rain

Burning beef
Makes us pause
At food truck

Moving on

Generator exhaust
Makes me gag

Moving on

Blunt pigeon poop
Spike to the nose

Sweet flowers
Bring relief

Quickly followed by
Sleeping homeless person
Makes me sigh

Memories of sweet Magnolia trees
Are all that remain
They died
Replaced by tall sticks
With no scent
And no enjoyment

Not a day
Goes by
My nose
Learns new
Smells of the city