Many years ago an old man who used to regularly visit our Saturday Car Boot Sales stood next to me and farted. Being polite I took no notice. He admitted later that he had a ‘fart machine’ in his pocket, when the button was pressed the trumpet would sound! It was very realistic and whenever he used it he’d laugh as if were the funniest thing in the world. The other day I had cause to remember him and realised it was at least ten years since I’d seen him. So ‘Trouser Tom’ wherever you are (either ‘up’ or ‘down’ as you used to say), thank’s for the memory, this one’s for you…

I like to fart,
it does not smell,
at least as far,
as I can tell

After beans,
cabbage or sprout,
just lift a cheek,
and one slips out.

So if I fart,
(noise from a zoo),
I’ll look around,
and blame you!

Dedicated to Trouser Tom, a great practical joker with a big laugh, who slipped silently from this world in November 2006 RIP.

© Baldock Bard 2017
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