From inside their socks all laced up in plastic
the smell of your body appears olfactively
bad, from the odour of dimples to the hum of the shins
a repulsive reminder of restaurant bins.
Every pore, every sweat gland, harbours a smell.
If your feet could start talking you might hear them yell
“Clean up your body you’re a walking disgrace
that mustardy ear wax should bring tears to your face.
It’s like cheese left in cling film mixed with soap on a rope.
Get back in that shower or you’ll smell like the bloke
wearing boiled sprout cologne in the middle of summer
with the hint of a Lycra clad long distance runner.
Picture spuds going mouldy or carrots gone soft.
Or learn from your feet and keep it all in your socks.”
In my case it would be the kettle calling the pot black – my feet are not always pristine!
it’s hard to describe smells – I think we should invent some new words – in Italian they sometimes put an s on the front of a word to make it mean the opposite – let’s say your feet are spristine (?)
spristine’s a great word – it sounds clean!
for the rhyme maybe ‘olfactive’ rather than the adverb? Great word anyway!
Another fun poem!