John Thorkild Ellison (17/04/51 / Edinburgh)
I sighed and wept, then I farted
Thinking of my dear departed,
Imagine how upset I felt
That she couldn't stand the way I smelt!
I haven't had a bath for years,
But surely that's no cause for tears?
If a man can't smell like a rotting bin
What kind of world are we living in?
I reserve the right to fart at will
And burp whenever I've had my fill!
If you don't think that this is fair
You can take your posh ideas elsewhere!
Comments about this poem (Disgusting by John Thorkild Ellison )
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