America has farted
My nation cut a fart
And it smells like liberty
It was loud and it was rank
And was squarely aimed at me
My nation cut a fart
And then blamed it on the dog
We couldn’t see clear to blame ourselves
Through the fetid fog
Between the gloating and the gloom
The fart has nearly cleared the room
Between the fear between the hate
Perhaps it was something we ate
America, go mend your mores
And take some time to check your drawers
Posted in:
Poetry