On our trip east, we stopped at an area to rest
to exercise the legs and give the dog a pee break,
for me too and so to the men’s room did I make.
Urinals to the left, first two fitted children the best.

And so I saw a man at the first adult urinal stand
and made my way to the empty urinal number four.
I was in no hurry and didn’t scoot across the floor,
but nonchalantly sauntered toward the urinal as planned.

As I passed close to the gent at urinal number three
who stood taking what seemed to me a very long pee,
he cut the cheese right in my face to a thunderous roar.
Figuratively, I had been pissed on but never literally
farted on before.

I can only assume it was a coincidence and no harm was meant,
but nevertheless, I moved on to urinal number six,
well past the peeing and farting gent.

Now, we all get farted on metaphorically speaking,
but we need to buck up and stop unnecessary weeping.
In the great scheme of things of which we are a part,
metaphorically speaking, we, too, upon others occasionally do fart.