Mackerel Swimming Through Swiss Cheese
by L. N. Hunter
Bouquet of cheese and rancid fish:
the smell of bin bags when they squish.
Too soon, all things go grey and green:
old bacon shines with slimy sheen,
releasing thick and powerful stench
of loathsome, dead, decaying tench.
Abandoned cup of milky tea
contains a hint of charmless brie,
with texture of some bubbly snot
exuding strands of stringy rot.
Which fish is it that smells so mean:
brown trout, or cod, or smoked sardine?
Why does all cheese go off and stink -
hard or gooey, blue-veined or pink?
Oh, why do bin bags, when you squeeze,
all smell of mackerel and Swiss cheese?
the smell of bin bags when they squish.
Too soon, all things go grey and green:
old bacon shines with slimy sheen,
releasing thick and powerful stench
of loathsome, dead, decaying tench.
Abandoned cup of milky tea
contains a hint of charmless brie,
with texture of some bubbly snot
exuding strands of stringy rot.
Which fish is it that smells so mean:
brown trout, or cod, or smoked sardine?
Why does all cheese go off and stink -
hard or gooey, blue-veined or pink?
Oh, why do bin bags, when you squeeze,
all smell of mackerel and Swiss cheese?