Wake Up Call
I woke to a whiff that curled my toes,
Not coffee, no toast, just something that grows.
A cloud of funk hung thick in the air,
And there stood a man with greasy hair.
His socks had quit sometime last June,
His shirt had seen twelve full moons.
He grinned and said, Morning, my dove.
As I gagged at his armpit’s no version of love.
He smelled like a gym that lost all hope,
Like someone bathed in soup and rope.
I leapt from the sheets with ninja flair,
Sprayed Febreze like I just didn’t care.
He said, Too strong, with innocent eyes.
I said, “You need to Sanitise.
So now I sleep with nose plugs tight,
Because love is blind,
but the smell just isn’t right
dirty Jo, go bath no go.
About the Creator
Marie381Uk
I've been writing poetry since the age of fourteen. With pen in hand, I wander through realms unseen. The pen holds power; ink reveals hidden thoughts. A poet may speak truth or weave a tale. You decide. Let pen and ink capture your mind❤️
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By S. A. Crawford3 days ago in Fiction
Comments (5)
Sounds like me when I wake up. Have to hop in shower from excessive sweating even in winter
Hahahahahahahaha omgggg, that's sooo gross 🤮🤮🤮🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣🤣
Lovely written,😀
Haha, this made me laugh! Some mornings, love definitely needs a little extra Febreze.
Interesting!!!