|Woman With a Towel, 1898, Edgar Degas|
via The Mag
After the meal, she yearns for the shower
and feels a tightness in her tum.
Slowly she disrobes and as the steam surrounds her
she reminisces about the two helpings of cauliflower cheese with some
prune danish for dessert. She smiles because she is a farter,
enjoying the notes that pop from her bum.
Bubbles gurgle down her stomach then exit as a delightful poot.
Oh! If only she had eaten more fruit!
written 4/8/13 for and for
1. I totally do not get meter (I think it is related to the not being musical thing)
2. I really like gross things (they amuse the shit out of me.)
I take a beautiful picture from The Mag prompt and I see and hear farts. I get a cool prompt from NaPoWriMo to write a Ottava Rima (which I have never written before) and I give you farts with no iambic pentameter.