#butfart

When outside the house, there resounded such thunder

I sprang from my bed and I started to wonder. 

I flew to the window to see what I'd find,

Tore open the curtains and pulled up the blind.

The moon in the mist of the freshly formed cloud

Formed a bright fuzzy haze that was hard to make out

When, what to my wondering eyes should appear

But a man who was shooting out flames from the rear

With a shirt on the top and the same on the bottom

I knew in a moment it must be Butfartman! 

More rapid than planes, through the sky he beelined

Leaving a thick smelly cloud right behind.

An aroma that tingled in everyone's noses

Took over the air. It did not smell like roses. 

With one giant fart he successfully landed, 

And he didn't come all this way empty-handed.

A bag full of cans he was lugging along.

He walked up to our house and I heard a "ding-dong." 

I scrambled to answer the door, and he said

"Sorry I don't use the chimney instead."

"That's fine" I replied with my nose in my shirt,

And I hoped that Butfartman would not be too hurt.

But without hesitation, he came in the door

And he ate up the food that we left him before.

He was dressed all in yellow, his neck to his knees, 

A stripe down each side, he was likened to bees,

With a sleeve on each leg and a neck hole between

(And we know what that's for, if you know what I mean).

He waddled around with his inter-thigh pocket

That held his own fuel when he flew like a rocket.

He beeped and he booped as he finished the crumbs

And licked the last pickle juice drops from his thumbs.

His full belly rumbled and up from beneath,

The fumes, they encircled his butt like a wreath. 

I opened the windows and got the fan blowing. 

I said it was hot even though it was snowing.

He got out his bag and began to unpack

Fifteen cans of beans that he put in a stack

That looked like a tree with its pyramid theme, 

And on top of it all, a big tub of sour cream.

I thought of burritos and chilies and dips

And nachos and soups. I was licking my lips. 

"Happy Fartmas" he said in a New England accent.

He turned so I got a fresh whiff of his back scent.

He sprang out the door and let everything loose

And a big puff of gas trailed behind his caboose

As he launched with a jump and a fart off the ground