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Sunday, April 27, 2014

Fart Surfing

It was a melodic daydream
Brought to life between two fleshy pillows of fat
An exhaust of lower intestine gas
A long low note called F flat

The stink grew and spread its fledgling wings
Soaring about the room with ease
Causing most of my fellows to run in feigned pain
Accompanied by curses and at least one hearty sneeze

Reaching up with foul stench fingers
Into my nose and polluting my mouth
I could both smell and taste it
Driving me out the other door and due South

Even as I ran a dark cloud followed me
Attached to my butt like a smelly trash trailer
Pushing me along like a cresting ocean wave
Until I was riding atop as a sea of poop sailor

Both terrifying and exhilarating
Sort of terrirating or exhilifying if you will
I was roiling in boiling bruising stench
All of my senses long past having their fill

There was only one thing to do to bring this ride to a stop
So I pulled the virtual ripcord cringed as my pants seam parted
And the stench cloud ocean released me from it's grip in a foamy groan
Leaving me in a smelly puddle both relieved and embarrassed that I'd sharted