Ode to Air Biscuits

Some of you know that I have been known to go to a coffee house,  write some impromptu napkin poetry, and take the stage to go up do a poetry reading.  So I felt the need to express myself with a poem today.  This one is about farts.

Oh floating air biscuit they just don’t understand,

How you whither and tither with each wave of the hand.

Some think you’re stinky but I think you’re swell,

It must cloud their judgement because of your smell.

One good dutch oven brings laughter to all,

So much that I will catch you when you fall.

They waft you, they tease, they mock, and they sneer,

I’ll never understand the depths of their fear.

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