Smelly people in the queue,
Wafting B O from each shoe,
And from their bodies, both unwashed,
Then to cap it all, both are sloshed,
Swaying back and forth as they,
Wait their stinky turns to pay,
And I am right behind them too!
What's the best thing I can do?
Should I just hold my breath?
That may well lead to my death,
'Cos this queue really is very long,
And their odour is really strong,
And holding my nose will not do,
The powerful pong still seeps through,
As through my mouth I'm forced to breathe,
From this position I have to leave,
Before my retching makes me spew,
I'm heading for the back of the queue!
Tom Higgins 05/08/2012
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem