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Tuesday, 14 October 2014


I grew up in the farming way
with moo-moo, quack-quack and neigh,
with baa-baa, oink-oink and cluck,
noises, noises all night and day
and sometimes when I was out of luck,
downwind of the horse and cart,
I'd catch the gagging vapour-smell
of a straw-bale-busting Dobbin fart.

(Dobbin - the stallion that could wilt a scallion!)

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