A lot of epicureans

Are keen on scoffing durians, 

Those Southeast Asian fruits whose taste

Is redolent of almond paste,

Of custard and of sherry wine.

Their odour, though, is less benign;

It’s been compared to manky towels,    

Decaying veg and emptied bowels.

Perhaps they really are a treat,

But I can’t bring myself to eat

A food whose soi-disant perfume

Has echoes of the smallest room.