Saved this in drafts and forgot to post it. Apologies, oh ye teeming masses.
Many words worth
I wandered lonely as a cloud With acid rain and no antacid pills, When all at once I belched aloud It was like several textile mills. Around me several old ladies Fell, coughing, to their knees.
It had shades of turpentine And gutters on a summers day, And bits of tripe — i.e. intestine — And rotting fish in a stagnant bay. Ten thousand slew I with that burp Top that, Kid Billy, and Wyatt Earp!
Poison gasses kill, sure, but they Are nothing to that awesome burst Agent Orange had a nice bouquet Compared to the smell that we produced. I breathed deep but little thought What wealth the show to me had brought:
Oft, when on my commode I sit Indigestion having driven me there, Summoning up a good old .. never-mind, And the sound and vapours fill the air; The odours we produce are solid, tangible, big! But that eructation that day was in a different league.