Thursday, April 7, 2011

Brooke Prinzing

The Reek of Decay

What is that disgusting smell?
The one like steaming sulfurous hell.
I thought perhaps it was the trash,
Or maybe even your festering rash.
But we keep the dumpster far below.
And the poison oak cleared days ago.
Oh what’s that, it’s your lunch?
It’s some eggs, some eggs a bunch?
Well can I please throw them away?
Please don’t bring them another day.
The cursed stench threatens to overpower,
And haunt my dreams to the very last hour.

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