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Two Poems About Two Flatulent Sisters
Yep! These ladies are for real (though both are now deceased). They're my mom's first cousins, and they've led interesting lives. This is just one example (one example per sister, that is, making two)...
by 
 posted on 2006-02-12 05:47:06
 views 483 : last 2010-09-04 01:33:54
 comments 2 : last 2006-07-01 06:45:47
 category Poetry » Humour
 rating Universal

AN EMBARRASSING PILL TO SWALLOW

Mrs. C. was greatly stuffed
With gas that moved about
And caused her pain. She'd strain and strain
But couldn't get it out.

Her doctor said, "Take one of these
Before you eat a meal.
Your gas will be chased through, non-stop,
And better you will feel."

When Mrs. C. had company,
They all went out to dine--
And, later in the car that night,
Her gas got out-of-line.

That pill sure worked--it worked TOO well!
She thought that she would burst
And prayed that they would stop somewhere
Before she cut one first!

Thank God! They'd stopped!
She'd hurry out and get it over fast!
It smelled worse than the city dump--
Loud as a foghorn's blast.

Unknown to her, her niece's spouse
Had hurried to her side
To help dear Auntie from the car--
He now stood there wide-eyed!

Her niece, still sitting in the car,
Had now begun to laugh
Hysterically at how the blast
Had hit her better-half.

So, you might hear explosions
From the sewer in her town.
The reason? Mrs. C. came home
And flushed those pills right down!!!


THE RESTLESS RIPPER

Remember poor old Mrs. C.
Whose gas bombs well could blister?
I don't believe I've told you that
She also has a sister.

Her sister might haul me to court
For full identity--
Therefore, throughout this poem, I'll
Just call her Mrs. D.

Now, Mrs. D. (a hyper sort)
Is always on the go;
Not much can keep her in her house--
Perhaps, a six-foot snow?

One day, while she was knitting
On a park bench in the mall,
A gentleman sat down near-by--
So dignified and tall!

Perhaps, he wanted to eat lunch
With widowed Mrs. D.--
But, if those were his plans at first,
It wasn't meant to be.

For Mrs. D. ran out of yarn,
But more was in her sack;
She bent to reach it--then was heard
A loud, obnoxious crack!

The fellow's eyes got big and wide;
He turned a little green;
He made fast tracks away from her
And hasn't since been seen!

Now, Mrs. D.'s a restless sort
Who has the urge to roam--
But I am sure this was a day
She wished she'd stayed at home!

© Ainsley Jo Phillips, 2006, All Rights Reserved.
Comments
Please remember that Authors are looking for feedback (both positive and negative). If leaving praise, or a critique, please try to qualify your comments - something a little more elaborative than 'Good job', or 'A Bit Boring' is generally encouraged. Please remember this is a creative writing site, so comments should always relate to the style of writing and the content, rather than a discussion about the views expressed.
 On 2006-07-01 06:45:47, Ainsley Jo Phillips wrote...
LOL
 On 2006-06-06 02:35:20, Dave Stauffer wrote...
This poem stinls! Just kidding. Odd topic, but brings a grin. Dave.

 

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