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
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