I Think You Stink I think, You stink, She said, to me. And you, Do too, Was my reply. Your putrid smell, Is really swell, Came her riposte. Your horrid scent, Is heaven sent, I can't deny. Old dog doo, Cannot beat you, She told me next. Well, rotten fruit, With yuck to boot, Pale next to you. These lovely words inside our hearts, We let go with two splendid farts, Then curled up in our nest real tight, Together for another night. Puzzled, are you, by our ways? Don't let it put you in a funk. It's how we live our nights and days. She, and I, are each a skunk. copyright 2009 Wayne Hepburn