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NaPoWriMo 11

April 12, 2012

link to NaPoWriMoPeople: Say Ho! Ho! It doesn’t really work doing a ‘shout out’ to people via the internet when what’s actually required is a stadium. Say Ho!, no, still doesn’t work even though people kinda get it.  I need a stage, a spot light and a microphone that works, then we can get some interaction. Jumpin, shoutin, whoopin, wavin! You know the stuff that makes a night memorable.

Poem: Farting. Not good.  Can be hilarious.  I’ve spent a couple of days with my parents and although I know I’m old enough to be beyond this sort of thing…

Cut the cheese

Oh God.  it’s terrible
I can’t seem to stop
farting
it’s like Loki
is playing
the bastard in
my pants.

I’m back with my parents
with my wife
and children
the youngest of whom
thinks that farting
is the
philosophers stone
of humour
the starting point the
end point of everything
worth laughing at

What’s happening?
We’re only playing table tennis
I bend over to pick the ball up
fffffrrrappp!
My eight year old
keels over in hysterical laughter
whilst the older ones
fan themselves
and open windows in
a fashion that would
cause victorian ladies
and Southern belles
to be rebuked for
being too ostentatious

I hit the ball
the concomitant
squeaking eruption from my trousers
causes the children to
fall onto the floor
gasping for breath
in the most theatrical manner
They can’t believe the
wonder of Dad farting,
laughing histrionically
winning points,
falling on the floor
and their behaviour
not being the point
of scrutiny
but rather
their Dad’s behaviour
which had previously
been so
sacrosanct

what could be better?

Publicly, all I
want is a glug
of Andrews liver salts
to take away the pain.
Privately,  I want to
giggle at just
how loudly
I can actually
fart.

 

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