A message came through the news today:
The police of pooh are on their way.
Big brother, it seems, has switched his gaze
To include not only you, but also those who graze.
He’s noticed something odious about the ones who moo
Just prior to the moment they go to the loo.
By all reports they have taken to heart
The problems surrounding the bovine fart.
Is it possible that the occasional blurt
Could reap such damage, could cause such hurt?
Is it sinful for me to witness with myrth
While this toxic cloud destroys our Earth?
But wait! There’s no need for worry!
There’s reason to be joyful and make merry.
A solution, it seems, has come to hand.
Little Johnny will save our great brown land.
The people at Monsanto in the US of A
Have invented a seed to replace our hay.
There’ll be no more smells, no more wind to pass;
This great new invention will block up their arse.
Surely the buck is not stopping there,
To blame only the cows is a little unfair.
What about the Savanna with its zebra and gnu?
The creatures of the jungle and even our zoo?
I’ve become more alarmed even as I speak,
Bert the budgie just emitted a squeak.
Far be it from me to perpetuate fear,
But one thing for certain is abundantly clear
As we ponder the future to come:
Everything on Earth has some kind of bum.
Whether this story be fact or fake,
Could it possibly be that God made a mistake?
David Irwin, July 2007
