Passing Gas Now
Passing gas was not acceptable when I was young
It was embarrassing, and horrible and I hid it.
It was not “lady-like” which I thought was important.
Now I am a crone, a hag, an old woman
Invisible to the young, until they need something
It is okay; I do not like parties any way
Passing gas is my main stay now
It happens more frequently than it ever did
Being ladylike is not important any more
It is embarrassing though when I tear them off
Letting them rip loudly and proudly in succession
As I trot down the hallway past a laughing kindergarten class
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