The Sticky Fart
Posted: Mon Oct 19, 2015 7:12 pm
The Toolangi C.J. Dennis Poetry Festival written poetry competition has a category for adults writing for children. This is, of course, judged by adults, as are all poetry competitions. However, there is also a separate set of results for judging by children. I have been trying to win this award for a few years now without any success.
This year, however, I broke through (no pun intended…) with "The Sticky Fart"!
The Sticky Fart
I did a big fart – not right off the chart, but it stuck to the end of my bum.
I wriggled and jiggled and joggled and squiggled and gave it a poke with my thumb.
It wouldn’t come loose, and I felt like a goose, so I sat very hard on the grass,
And I slided and slid, but I couldn’t get rid, and it stayed there, attached to my bottom.
I stood on each hand. My planning was grand. Perhaps it would flop back inside.
I walked round the yard. It was terribly hard, and didn’t do much for my pride.
Exhausted, I fell, and I gave out a yell, “Look out!”, for I felt it come loose.
It ran down my pants like a scurry of ants, along with a trickle of juice.
I was filled with relief, but alas, to my grief, I felt it beneath me go “Squelch!”
(If I’d been really smart, instead of a fart, I’d have simply pushed out a big belch!)
I’ve been badly misused, and I’m very confused. I don’t know what now I should do.
I am gloomy and glum. It is gone from my bum, but I can’t get the fart off my shoe!
© Stephen Whiteside 24.03.2015
This year, however, I broke through (no pun intended…) with "The Sticky Fart"!
The Sticky Fart
I did a big fart – not right off the chart, but it stuck to the end of my bum.
I wriggled and jiggled and joggled and squiggled and gave it a poke with my thumb.
It wouldn’t come loose, and I felt like a goose, so I sat very hard on the grass,
And I slided and slid, but I couldn’t get rid, and it stayed there, attached to my bottom.
I stood on each hand. My planning was grand. Perhaps it would flop back inside.
I walked round the yard. It was terribly hard, and didn’t do much for my pride.
Exhausted, I fell, and I gave out a yell, “Look out!”, for I felt it come loose.
It ran down my pants like a scurry of ants, along with a trickle of juice.
I was filled with relief, but alas, to my grief, I felt it beneath me go “Squelch!”
(If I’d been really smart, instead of a fart, I’d have simply pushed out a big belch!)
I’ve been badly misused, and I’m very confused. I don’t know what now I should do.
I am gloomy and glum. It is gone from my bum, but I can’t get the fart off my shoe!
© Stephen Whiteside 24.03.2015
