Rotten Orange

There’s this Rotten orange smell I can’t see the orange, mind you But it’s somewhere behind The television screen I know because We smell it We know it is there Always I cannot breathe without Remembering that rotten orange That hidden somewhere Moldy fruit And honestly we were fine before it We argued over other things and we didn’t Complain About fruit Now I can’t watch tv Without screwing up my nose Or gagging at the smell Without complaint after complaint Because there’s nothing I can do And no one knows how he got there Too far out of reach And it smells So Bad