The wintertime masks the odour of the feedlot, you think
When driving by the smell isn't so bad the stink
Isn't an overwhelming presence just a mild after taste
From all those cattle's massed body waste
The skein of ice over the lagoon surface
Hides Natures ultimate purpose
For when the cheery Springtime Sun heat
Warms the copious fetid treat
A fragrant explosion assaults the senses
When motoring by those complicit fences
The Little Tree® air freshener hides and cries
And moans and screams and finally dies
The dense, wafting wall of emanation
Surely is unequaled in all of creation
Overcome by dizziness in the cloud of effluvium
One wonders if there is a requiem
For the slaughtered nerves in one's nose
Flooded like a tincture of fire hose
The Old Timers! Look and see
It's nothing but the smell of money!
I'll agree with this only
When me and my nose are safely free!
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4 comments:
Ha! Drove by the Central Valley's Harris Ranch feedlots on my way to Bakersfield recently. Weeks later, I still don't think I have the "taste" out of my mouth. Here in Sonoma -- which is the epicenter of green, sustainably raised, organic, meat -- you can actually drive by cows and still smell the roses. Well, you could if they didn't burn up in the hot California sun. Let's say you can smell the cactus roses.
nothing like the fragrance after the rain! TB
What they wouldn't give for that much stink in Dafur.
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Mayfield Gun store
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