I was walking behind this very sweet, classy,

Petite, octogenarian church woman,

Down a long hallway that leads

From the sanctuary to the fellowship hall,

When suddenly she passed a lot of gas.

Now I don't mean a little bit,

I'm talking a large amount of loud flatulence.

Well she never turned around to see

If there was anyone following behind her,

So I guess she thought that she

Was the last one out of the Holy Hall,

Or she didn't give a rat's rear end

(Which could've been true!)

Or maybe that was her own form of altar call,

Or maybe she didn't like the benediction

That the pastor gave,

And that was her own rendition?

But don't tell me you can't learn 

Something at church these days!

I look both ways before I cross the street,

And before I toot,

I turn around to see what kind of 

Snooty little poets might be walking behind me,

That might write something just as foul.

-jenn