Dear Houseguest, (I'm gonna get medievil on your ass)

Oh ye who refuses to bathe.
Whose acrid smell wraps around
my living room
And sneaks under my door.

Ye who stinks like the flounder
stuck upon shore with no tide in sight.
You are not welcome; You are not welcome anymore.

I gracefully let you in
When a thousand other faces
Would have not.
And bided by your bodily odor
for over one thousand hours.

The maidens shrink away from your room
With it's vile and putrid air.
And must hold cloth over their face
when ever they must enter there.

Your robes are stiff with pine and sweat.
And often they scream to be off;
Free of all that binds them to your body
and set down in the washer woman's basket.

But it is time we bid farewell
let it be known I do not think you
a ne'er-do-well.
Just maybe an ablutophobe.