Artsy Fartsy

Artsy Fartsy
by David A. Chalfant


No one writes a poem about a fart.
Perhaps they think it isn’t art.
So I looked it up, ‘cause I wanted to see
if a fart could be art or poetry.

I went Webster’s for the definition,
and now I’ll give you my rendition
of what it said in that big book
when I opened it up and took a look.
___________

Art--  Art is defined to be
a special human ability
to make things--with the application of skill
to the effect of giving others a thrill.

A display of beauty and form- with the exception,
of the occasional work of unusual perception.
In other words, to put it in simplicity,
Art requires skill and creativity...

And poems are works of art--as surely you’ve heard--
Rhythmic compositions more powerful than mere words.
Which clears the whole thing up for me,
this question of fart as poetry,

And I think my argument’s not half bad...
Let me tell you about my dad.
Dad’s never been one of those “Pull my finger” kind of guys
In fact, when dad’s around and suspicions rise...
and windows open...
         and tears fill eyes...
My humble father usually lies.

My father does not fart for pride,
but rather to release a force inside.
which he will, when discovered, readily,
admit to and title his work “Silent but deadly.”

Yes, my dad’s a poet-- and artist of sounds
who’s power of expression knows no bounds,
And his compositions are rhythmic, as my mother confesses,
being kept awake late at night by his reoccurring stresses.

A dedicated artist, with modesty,
who works at his craft incessantly,
So finally, with respect to my dad, can’t you see...
No one writes poems about farts,
                   because farts are already poetry.