Smells are powerful—body odor, sweat, garlic, onions, body fluids, perfumes, incense, cigarettes, and all the other aromas that make some folks quiver in delight.

I am in love with the smell of armpits, grass, the manly stink of my Granddaddy’s aftershave, the sweaty bodies of lovers, and the lingering stench of cigarettes on naked, hairy skin.

Smells are nostalgic, painful, sensuous, nerve-wracking, and home.

I love walking up the street and smelling the old, familiar smell of punks, knowing I am near a safe space, close to friends. The chlorine and musk of public pools and bathhouses, the yeasty breeze of fresh-baked bread or homebrewed beer, and the pine-tree, dry air smell of the Rockies enchant me.

I long for a world where I no longer smell money, pollution, disease, and gunpowder. I long to be overwhelmed by the scent of decay and rebirth, soil, water, fire, and life.

Sadly, for now, our fights continue, our wars go on. The stench of murder, greed, patriotism, and ecological destruction drowns the sweet-salty smells of endless creation and destruction, uninterrupted by the machines of human greed.