Short Spluttered Poems

There was a young lady named Bette
Who puffed on her first cigarette
She coughed and she spluttered
Then seriously muttered
This sure is one thing I'll regret...

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They say I said.
But I stammered.
They quoted the spluttered,
and only said what they imagined.
Did i  say what they imagined?
Reflecting,
I meant no harm.
Think no shame on me.
And if indeed they say I said it,
or my part repels for a moment
Take this as my apology ....

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Listen to poem:

Shocked, taken aback,
I was stood up by my standbys
ever reliable phonies who stood by
and watched. My dear friends quaked
and spluttered excuses from stand-by mode.
How quickly the folksy flock dispersed
to vultures, hanging, waiting 
in stand-by queues, for me to fail, so can step in.
Chameleon onlookers standing by.
Well "Stand By, Folks"
"I'll be back, right with you"....

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Mired in grime,
the little guy sang,
he had little sense,
of what was neat and clean,
he spluttered mud,
as he fell in the quagmire,
with a gleeful thud,
the mom came along,
before long,
chided him hard,
for he was growing fast,
and faster still gathering dirt,
she was fearful of him,
of the ills he might catch,
he still wanted,
the mud,
as much delight as it could fetch....

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There once was a young man named Rig
his rectum two sizes too big
	whenever he farted
	his two cheeks they parted
expelling a fireworks fizgig

The fizgig it fizzled and hissed
as it came through out of the mist
	we spluttered and we gagged
	as on the fizgig dragged
and now we were thoroughly pissed

Rig laughed and muttered, “I’m sorry.
Passed as I stepped from the lorry.
	The step was too high,”
	he said with a sigh,
“of getting back in, I’m charry!”...

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