Poem -

Blowing In The Wind.

My arse is farting.
My arse cheeks are parting.
Some smelly farts my arse is cooking.
At me people are looking.
I can not help it.
On a chair my fat arse can not sit.
Oh Jesus there goes a loud one.
At me people laugh they think it’s fun.
Farting gives me pain relieve from my gaseous stomach.
People say I’m a dirty bastard and good manners i lack.
I tell them my stomach is unwell.
They tell me to go to hell.
Oh Jesus i think that fart followed through.
A change of underwear my fat arse is due.
Yes my arse is farting.
It is goddamn rotting.
 

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