Rab The Trouts Poem

TAE A FERT

Oh what a sleekit horrible beastie Lurks in yer belly efter the feastie
Just as ye sit doon among yer kin
There sterts to stir an enormous wind
The neeps and tatties and mushy peas Stert working like a gentle breeze
But soon the puddin wi the sonsie face Will have ye blawin all ower the place
Nae matter whit the hell ye dae A'bodys gonnae hae tae pay
Even if ye try to stifle It's like a bullet oot a rifle
Hawd yer bum tight tae the chair Tae try and stop the leakin air
Shify yersel fae cheek tae cheek Prae tae God it doesnae reek
But aw yer efforts go asunder Oot it comes like a clap o thunder
Ricochets aroon the room Michty me! A sonic boom
Good God Almighty it fairly reeks Hope I huvnae shit ma breeks
Tae the bog I better scurry Awe whit the hell, it's no my worry
A'body roon aboot me choking Wan or two are nearly bokin
I'll feel better for a while Cannae help but raise a smile Wis him! I shout with accusing glower Alas too late, he's just keeled ower
Ye dirty bugger they shout and stare A dinnae feel welcome any mair
Where e're ye go let yer wind gang free Sounds just like the job fur me
Whit a fuss at Rabbie's perty Ower the sake o' wan wee ferty