Fart

“Rumbler. High-squeak. S.B.D.”

Under the table,
Cousin Mable
relays what she hears
from dinner guests
in surrounding chairs
as their holiday meal
digests.

“Double-toot. Earthquake. Elephant.”

Cousin Scott
draws a dot.
First to fill a row,
he erupts,
“Bingo!”

53/365

A version of this poem first appeared on Bluesky. Whispered into the acoustic sensors of the sleeping dreaming android, it prompted the electric sheep to generate one more tomorrow…

© 2025 Greg R. Fishbone, generated by Niji as a derivative work of the poem, "Fart" by Greg R. Fishbone