Olfaction

As at the beginning of every month - I took my tenants and former tenants around town to pay bills and buy groceries.
But today there was something a little bit different.
Maybe it was my allergies, or maybe it was the fact that I hadn't been to that part of town in a while, or maybe things have gotten that much worse.
Today, I noticed the smell of poverty.

No, poverty doesn't smell like urine or feces - although those are the two most prominent undertones.
Real poverty has the smell of death.
But how can one smell death?
Believe me, it smells like something.

Everyone knows the smell of roses, or mama's home cookin', or even of money.
Mothers can identify their children by their sense of smell.
I even enjoy the smell of the dirt just as it is about to rain.
Some people even find attraction in the smells of their mate where others may be repulsed.
But I'm talking about the bad smells.

Everyone knows that "code-smells" are usually the signal for a bigger underlying problem.
If a woman smells like old fish that has been left in the sun all day... ummm... run - she probably has some sort of infection.
If someones ish really doesn't stink - it could be an indication that their liver and kidneys are are failing to filter the toxins from their stool.
If someones feces is watery and has a sweet stink (usually the smell of drug users' diarrhea) - one can usually deduce some sort of organ failure.
If someone has bad breath - it could be a rotten tooth or an early symptom of heart problems.
If one's breath smells of ammonia - they could be suffering from liver failure.
The list goes on and on.

But back to the smell of death.
Well, really - the smell of the walking dead.
As soon as I got home, I had to take a long and hot shower.
It's the same as when one leaves the house of a smoker or the home of a crackhead - these odors seem to permeate even one's pores.

It's the smell of urine, feces, crack, cigarette smoke, mold and sickness all rolled into one putrid aroma.
Now, I hate the smell of fennel and any hippie chick whose home smells of such.
I hate the smell of all the spices at the ethnic stores.
I hate the smell of cheap perfume on a cheap woman.
But I'd take all of these together for a year in place of the smell of real poverty.

I don't know, maybe I'm just not as used to smelling these aromas as in times past.
Maybe it's just my imagination.
But maybe these really are the smells of the walking dead.
Maybe these smells (that are so strong one can taste them) are signs of a societal failure.
Maybe this is really the smell of hopelessness and impending death.
I really don't know.
All I know is that the ghetto really stinks.