Parosmia Sick as a boy and suddenly Frosted Flakes tasted like soap. I sniffed at the cereal cupped In my hand, convinced that Instead of sugar it had been run Through vats of detergent, Then spread out on screens to dry. And though I didn’t see soap Listed in the ingredients, And though my brothers ate Their bowls as numbly as heifers Nosing silage at the trough, And though Tony the Tiger grrr’d At me from the side of the box, Insisting they were great, Nothing could convince me that There wasn’t soap in my cereal.
Parosmia
Parosmia
Parosmia
Parosmia Sick as a boy and suddenly Frosted Flakes tasted like soap. I sniffed at the cereal cupped In my hand, convinced that Instead of sugar it had been run Through vats of detergent, Then spread out on screens to dry. And though I didn’t see soap Listed in the ingredients, And though my brothers ate Their bowls as numbly as heifers Nosing silage at the trough, And though Tony the Tiger grrr’d At me from the side of the box, Insisting they were great, Nothing could convince me that There wasn’t soap in my cereal.