the ode to odour

Thou stench, thou stench, upon the bus
Like dead fish to a shore,
I smell thee as I've smelt no worse
And wish to smell no more.

Be gone, Befoul'd! relieve my chest!
That I may breathe again
The air of which I need to breathe,
And breathe thus with no pain.

But free your mind- fret now no more-
This world's not of no ends:
We live in times of fragrant sprays
And canned deodorants!

So buy thee now a smell thereof,
And use it, faith, by day;
That all within proximity
Shall have no more to say. (Yay!)