Dettol Poem by Marshall E Gass

The smell of dettol permeates way down the street
even as I approach the clinic in terror
death stalks every step and my pulse races
with the knowledge of impending doom.

Try as I might, to stay calm and in control, bugs don't think-
they eat their fill first
and talk with high temperatures and tantrums
coughs and splutters
chills and tingles and tantrums, probably knowing
that murderous pills on their way.

dettol has a distinct sensation, it matches sterile
spongy clean sop and maternity wards
yet I know if you smelt dettol in the deep woods
you would question every dark spot on a leaf
the bark the tree! the wind and the root.
That's how it got associated with death.

I could never overcome that smell
at times it felt safe, at other times it felt like
alarm bells were ringing of an approaching enemy
facing a firing squad. How could they fire us
to the next world with a smell?
But that's what it always felt like. But today
I need to get my flu sorted out.
Dettol wont do the killing fields any good.

Its hard to have a love/hate relationship with a smell.
Dettol and Women! They are alike! That's it. Yeah.

Author Notes

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© Marshall Gass. All rights reserved,2 months ago

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