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This was before they were banned
From overhead storage.
Amazing how one Durian can clog
So many confined bobbing heads.

A stomach turning air turbulence
Is yet more desirable than
That choking miasma of emissions
Which waft from their pulpy substance.

In foreign parts beer is not quaffed
While consuming Its flesh.
No one says why.
I do say however
For it is disturbingly wonderful
to glug while munching 
That earthy reek.

To gormandize upon
The fungal billowing 
Of its noisome meatiness,
Is an experience only 
The reckless may speak of.

The creamy white meat
Around the large pithy seed-eggs
Beguiles the mouth to suck
And pillage its pale treasures.
While the cold beer
Both numbs and shocks
a cringing brain.
I have found it blows the mind
Yet leaves only the stench
Of a gluttonous well-being
That permeates through
Every orifice.

Those unused to the potency
Of being alone with a ripe Durian
Should not fly or be ill prepared.
For even when sealed in cargo
The funk of the fruit stuns and stupefies.

Fellow passengers
Demanding parachutes 
High above over the Indian ocean
Have been known to renounce
Their white privilege
Or fall to their knees in prayer
Hoping against hope
That ventilating masks
Will drop into the contaminated cabin.

Naturally, there is no escape
For even when they disembark,
Cabs will not carry them,
And all will shun even the shadow
Of a Durian
Once its odor has latched onto
Your trembling soul.

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