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One time I farted and it sounded like napalm in the morning: the sound of victory.
One time I farted and it sounded like someone rewinding a recording of gunfire.
One time I farted and it sounded like a jazz singer improvising random syllables while crapping, and I thought, "So that's why it's called singing 'scat'...."
One time I farted and the sound unlocked my car.
One time I farted and it sounded like a shofar blowing.
One time time I farted and it sounded like a gospel choir singing. But I hadn't farted, it was the minister sitting next to me.
One time I farted and physicists thought a new universe was beginning.
One time I farted and it sounded like someone really obssessive-compulsive about organization: very anal.
One time I farted and it sounded like silence. But I hadn't farted, it was Paul Simon.
One time I farted and it sounded like an elk giving birth to a duck.
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Dull sublunary lovers love,
Whose soul is sense, cannot admit
Absence, because it doth remove
That thing which elemented it.
(From "A Valediction: Forbidding Mourning" by John Donne)
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