Old Fart At Play

Pappy with the Khaki sweatband
Bowed goat potbellied barnyard that only he noticed
The old fart was smart
The old gold cloth madonna
Dancin' to the fiddle and saw
He ran down behind the knoll
And slipped on his wooden fishhead
The mouth worked and snapped all the bees back to the bungalow

Mama was flattenin' lard
With her red enamel rolling pin
When the fishhead broke the window
Rubber eye erect and precisely detailed
Airholes from which breath should come
Is now closely fit
With the chatter of the old fart inside

An assortment of observations took place
Mama licked her lips like a cat
Pecked the ground like a rooster
Pivoted like a duck
Her stockings down caught dust and doughballs
She cracked her mouth glaze, caught one eyelash
Rubbed her hands on her gorgeous gingham
Her hands grasped sticky metal intricate latchwork
Open to the room, a smell cold mixed with bologna
Rubber bands crumpled wax paper bonnets
Fat goose legs and special jellies
Ignited by the warmth of the room

The old fart smelled this through his important breather holes
Cleverly he dialed from within from the outside we observed
That the nose of the wooden mask
Where the holes had just been a moment ago
Was now smooth amazingly blended camouflaged in
With the very intricate rainbow trout replica

The old fart inside was now breathing freely
From his perfume bottle atomizer air bulb invention

His excited eyes from within the dark interior glazed
Watered in appreciation of his thoughtful preparation

Oh man, so heavy