Sot-Weed

[barbie gaze]

My painful piles are iching
to spew a blast
like the one Nicholas landed on Absolon;
when the squimish lad (or lass),
a clerk of the parish
whose fear of farting felled a carpenter
after he kissed the carpenter's wife on the arse.

But I'll retain what would but make my iching pain far worse and might,
if we may take a lesson from a Miller's Tale,
put a curse, that like a hot poker thrust through a window in the night,
make bottoms of amature actors and fools of scholars.
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