The acrid smell creeps out br Of the fine fabric about br The composed mistress br Who sits in deep distress. br br For she knows, as others will br Soon discover as well, br That something foul is afoot br In this most holy religious spot. br br No noise, this time is uttered, br To forewarn others of what is to be encountered, br For she has secretly shifted her hips br To ease the birthing of these slips. br br But nature has its way br To release pressure; not to stay br For otherwise the buildup would destroy br The silence of the cathedral's arbor. br br Even Jonathan Swift could not br Nor could John Arbuthnot, br Disguise the essence of the day br Of a fart released this way.br br Sidi J.