Fish Smell Poem by James McLain

The first thing which hit to her was the smell.
That was that a certain thing
where she encounters it is most wiggles white is terrible.
That first smell can reflect upon her eating stomach.
Do not permit the stomach of the sickness
and don't you stop too drink this cup you think?
The stirrup which is her you walk by her,
stop in the one which is closest to the older sleeping woman.
Meatloaf that could be me.
One of my five older sisters.
When you become aware.
Strange something concerning; there.
White something plurls and unusual. No. plural being white.
As for her why thing,
she whom is forced in me, when I actualize, painted.
Fetch the Uzi!
Fetch the Uzi!
Eaton alive, her being brought up in my sisters it was.
To eat her oyster raw, they can't reuse it.
Who can of us refuse it
In the month of R's.
Relocating is her center.