Night Time Symphony

My ex husband was a funny guy
He liked his beer and chips
Black beans and big burritos,
And broccoli with dips

He liked corned beef and cabbage
And peppers, green and red
He didn’t care for exercise
He watched TV instead.

And when he finally got tired
Of clicking through the channels
He turned off the set, he brushed his teeth,
And changed into his flannels

Then, quiet as a little mouse
Into our room he'd creep
He didn’t put the light on;
For he knew I was asleep

Yes, I was snug and comfy
Beneath the sheets I slept
All clean and freshly showered
Then into our room he crept

Blissfully and peacefully
Asleep...and then, it started
He climbed into our marital bed
Got comfortable, and farted.

He did this every single night
From underneath our sheet
Just like a night-time symphony
That wasn’t very sweet

Although it's true, from every butt
A little wind must pass
His entire woodwind section was
Located up his ass.

And since this was his hobby
He had to practice every night
I wished that he would learn to knit
Or draw, or fly a kite

I wished that he would take up golf
Or even play Nintendo
But no, he loved his music best
From introduction to cresendo

He tooted in the key of G
His notes were truly sour
He put the “flat” in flatulence
Each night for over an hour

The aroma settled in the sheets
And perfumed all my clothes
It didn’t take five seconds for
The stench to reach my nose

It wafted gently through the sheets
To penetrate my snoot.
The smell was so repugnant.
I cringed with every toot

When his song was finally over
And the notes began to fade
He had the nerve to wonder
Why he wasn’t getting laid.

If he wanted to make music
He should have joined a band.
Perhaps one day he’ll figure out
Why he had to use his hand

His symphony was simply not
Conducive to good sex
So, now you know the reason why
This man is now my ex