Why can’t women fart like men?
It really isn’t fair,
To not announce to those around
There’s methane in the air.

A man will trump with dignity,
His head held high with pride.
Embarrassed not by loud retort
To be identified.

Now fuss-less knack the ladies have
Techniques that never fail,
With covert wind that barely moves
A mark on Beaufort scale.

But lack of sound just covers up
Foul breath released, and if
The lady be a beauty
More odorous the whiff.

They’ll pass it off and blame the dog,
Or point toward their man.
He’s had a chicken balti,
Several pints and keema nan.

But let’s just look at facts here,
From Queen to bears in wood,
To save us all exploding
Venting gas is good.

So come on girls, when passing wind
Allow your light to shine,
Give a hearty farty thrump,
And holler, “That one’s mine.”