A bodily function so awesome, it needs
A tremendous tribute, which I will here impart:
That glorious, uproarious thing called a fart.
Too many times, I'd be sitting in class
When, wouldn't you know it, a big ball of gas
Would come rumbling out from the depths of my tummy.
All but the teacher would think it was funny.
The mind-blowing names for this feat, so diverse,
Nearly rob me of skill to do justice in verse:
Air biscuit, breezer, beef, and one-cheek-sneak;
Room-clearer, honker, trouser trumpet, and squeak;
Ass-rumbler, cheek-flapper, letting it rip;
Pant-ripper, poot, toot, butt mutt, and air tulip.
Heiny burp, back draft, and buttock bassoon;
Bottom blast, rip ass, and a little boom-boom;
Dutch oven, funky roller, and Smelly McSniffed;
Rumble-fluff, wet one, butt pancake, and 'pfffffft.'
And just when you thought all the names were too small:
'I stepped on a fart snake.' It just says it all.
But the Grand Prize of Fart Names, it goes to my mom,
Who'd redden with shyness when she'd drop a bomb
Of wet stinky inky, and--no, I'm not goofing--
She'd blush, and then giggle and say, "Oops, I'm FLOOFING."
And thus, I say, no matter which way you spin it,
The world is the richer with flatulence in it.
So the next time you feel one a-brewin', take pride,
Stand with feet firmly planted, and cheeks open wide.
