Fart Roof Poem by Tor Magnor Solvang

A sun roof, they say, or a moon roof too,
But summer sun burns right straight through.
The winter snow, a frosty hide,
No moonlit view from up there inside.

So why that name, so grand and bright?
When mostly closed against the light?
A better name, perhaps it's true,
Would be a 'fart roof' just for you.

A quick release, a smelly fix,
Avoiding awkward passenger ticks.
More useful then, than sun or moon,
A gas vent opened, very soon.

But 'extra feature, ' that's the key,
A touch of fancy, wild and free.
So sun or moon, or stinky plight,
A little something, day or night.