passing, humor, poetry, steven humphreys

He had a nose long like

the beak of a stork

and took a break

on his path…

‘the sound of passing gas

is never not funny,’

he mused.

But, this gentleman was the one

headed up the hill

to take a long walk

in the beautiful

forest in the midst

of high trees.

He soon noticed the branches were

filled with leprechauns

perched there like birds

who fed him chocolate


For him, it was intense


that was,

until the

little green men


fed him a bowl of

their freshly cooked

Chile and beans…

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