The Stench

There’s this boy with a locker

at
the
end
of
the hall,

The locker emits fumes,
Poisonous enough to kill
a viper.
Tendrils of the noxious scent creep all over the
building,
Invading the staff room,
science tests and
kissing sessions,

High school students avoid the wing.
If it’s necessary to run by,
we’ll pinch their noses and
rush past.
We blame it on the boy.
Who knows what’s in there?
Bottled skunks?
Aging cheeseburgers?
Rotting uncooked fish?
Smoldering cigarettes?
Old gym clothes?

When he graduates, they’ll have to remove the locker
with a bulldozer.
They’ll probably have to buy a whole new wing of lockers,
Just to rid us of

the stench.