Filet-O-Fish

As I met the shaken widowed landlord outside I knew from the familiar sweet stinging odor What awaited me in the room atop the stairs He was hanging from a brown electrical cord His stale eyes bulging, and that naked bloated skin Flowing from his mouth, a solid stream of pale drool My handkerchief firmly secured over my nose I searched the cluttered room for a suicide note When I noticed a very intriguing picture Next to my hanger, there on a meagre table A single McDonalds Filet-O-Fish sandwich Half wrapped in the all too familiar blue paper From the fresh junk food, he'd nibbled a single bite Carefully he had placed it upon the table On the chair he stepped, and quietly hanged himself I remember laughing out loud there in the room Thinking what a hilarious situation A terrible advertisement for McDonalds “I’m lovin’ it” just didn’t apply here, somehow I've never looked at a Filet-O-Fish the same ‘Nother day, another dollar menu item Oh well