Homemade Rocket - Poem by George Hunter
A man named Bart from LaMart
Had perfected the art of the fart.
He filled the air
With aromas so rare
It gave everyone a start.
He said, Part of the key to this art
Is knowing just where to start.
So I only eat a la carte
You have to fill up your ass tank
With plenty of gas
So you'll have a lot of gas to pass
Out into the air
Until people will want to tear their hair.
So he ate a lot of chili and beans
Til he was bursting at the seams.
Then Cajun red beans and rice
And topped it off with a slice
Of the ole Gorgonzola
He played tunes like a Motorola
And that did the trick very nice.
He ate broccoli and brussels sprouts
And a whole bowl of sauerkrauts
Then he had three tankards of ale
And a whole head of kale
Lots of green cabbage and red
Ate that stuff by the head.
He said, I hope I know what I'm doing
As his stomach roiled and started to brewing
That volatile mixture down there
That soon would fill the air
With an odor so sweet
Knock you offa your feet
And leave you without a care.
It mixed all together to make a gruel
Made a good imitation of rocket fuel
It sat in the stomach and it fermented
Who'd eat this shit if they weren't demented?
It makes a powerful gas if you get the right combo
And don't shake it too much
By doing the mombo.
I'll try it out and then we'll see
If this day we can make some his-tor-ee
He said, I'm going to try a new trick tonight
That might even put me into flight.
He waited until a crowd gathered round
Hoping to hear a tremendous sound
Soon the pressure built up
And he started to pass
A steady stream of that mighty gas.
He bent way over and lit his torch
Being careful his ass he did not scorch.
As he put his lighter in his pocket
He took off like a flaming rocket!
We all waved good bye as he flew out of sight
That was the last of him we saw that night.
That crazy clown
Never did come down
But we can see him if we might
Look to the sky, ‘cause he's very bright
Whirling around in his orbit up there
Looking down on the earth so fair
There's no moral to this story
Except if you get too inventive, you'll be sorry.
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