Stink
Miasmas, they thought, brought the threat of plague
as illness arose from fetid stink
So, for centuries we've battled odour
They were wrong, of course, but it makes you think…
The smells and stench of those daily lives
would be enough to curl our toes
No amount of pot pourri
would protect the delicate present-day nose
Did they seek to remove the reek?
I suspect they did all they can
to reduce the whiff of a too-strong sniff
but what can we say of modern man?
For times have changed, as well they might
But, alas we're stuck with one last foe
And it's no fun, if you're the one
who knows someone with bad B.O
For no gentle, sweet, mild aroma
will grace the air when he appears
No smile alights on happy faces
they're too busy hiding stinging tears
She could be the bravest soul around
fighting figurative dragons, with no time to rest
But that pong makes all who meet her wonder
if a shower should be her next stout quest
They could well be brightest of the bunch;
geniuses full of inspiration
Yet it's clear to everyone, but them
the need to address their perspiration
It's rude to hold your nose, they say
or vomit loudly on their feet
or squirt them in the face with perfume
with a jet-spray as you cross the street
So candles are lit, incense burns
Fragrant answers are sold to the wise
I guess in the end, we must find a way
to tell someone to deodorize
Copyright © David Lindsay | Year Posted 2016
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