Launched a soaker, muddied my thigh:
Baked beans blew by, veal, pie,
Oats, wheat, groats, rye.
Do I feel dry?!!

My fart's reeky. . .pig in a pen.
Oh, what a smell: moved gut
Breeds stench so high.
Doomed, my meal time.

Peas, pullets, beet leaves, meat,
Braised skink, fat kine, plump stag 'n'
Nuts, chai, moo'd veal;
They came right through.
Unfilled me. . . on comes gaggin'.

Thought I'd cheese ripped,
But bum bore vile
Dung slime that poured high,
Low--me, slow-dry;
Doo'd, my reek's high.

Peas, pulled pork, beef, lean meat
Raise stink, but hind shmutz's flaggin'.
Butt dries--good feel;
It's stayed, my poo,
But[t] filled seat, and it's saggin'.

Stalled the leak-drip,
But[t] dump scored piles.
Bum grind--it's sore;
Pry more; treat hole pyre.
"Lube!" I squeal, "Ply 'er!
That'll fight the fire!"

Give me oven-baked beans,
I'll deal fine.