And for an alternative ode to Burns

[fred]

Tae a fart

Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie,
Lurks in yer bellie efter a feastie,
Just as ye sit doon among yer kin
There starts to stir an enormous wind.

The neeps and tatties and mushy peas
Start working like a gentle breeze
But soon the pudding wi' the sauncie face
Will hae ye blawin' a' ower the place

Nae matter whit the hell ye dae
a'body's gonnae hae tae pay
Even if ye try tae stifle
it's like a bullet oot a rifle

Hawd yer bum ticht tae the chair
Tae try tae stop the leakin' air
Shift yersel fae cheek tae cheek
Pray tae god it disnae reek

But a' the efforts go asunder
Oot it comes like a clap o' thunder
Ricochets arrond the room
Michty me! a sonic boom

God almighty it fairly reeks
A' hope a' huvnae shit ma breeks
Tae the bog a' better scurry
Whit the hell, it's no ma worry

A'body roon aboot me choakin'
One or two are nearly boakin'
I'll feel better for a while
Cannae help but raise a smile

It wis him! I shout and glower
Alas too late, he's just keeled ower
Ye dirty bugger! They shout and stare
I'm no that welcome any mair

Where e're ye go let yer wind gang free
That sounds jist the joab fir me
Whit a fuss at Rabbie's party
Ower the sake o' one wee farty.

[Nana of 9]