Kiss Me

Kiss me my chest is full of flu,

snot on lip, a drop or two,

my eyes are glassier than blue,

I lately ate a herring stew.

My body odour includes mold,

my scaly hands are fish cold,

my poetry’s crap and all told, 

this here example is too bold.

You could catch something, I’m farting,

my hair, of course, is past parting,

my only achievement has been carting

myself around, and it’s hard starting.

So consider this the acid test

of what you like about me best,

my upset stomach or pure zest

for loving you and all the rest.