Enter upstage left. Full front position.
Hand over eyes. Shoulders down. Posture lacking.
It was the fart.
The expelling of gas as I walked by the administrative secretary's desk.
A quick puff of air as I took the next step.
The sound? Please tell me only I could hear it.
Walk to center stage. One quarter right position. Head up.
Speaking to someone else in the room but nobody sitting in it.
It could have been the chocolate or the greens or it wasn't stinky or I hope she didn't have to get out her can of disinfectant when I left the room.
Change position to full front. Speak to the audience.
She's the kind of person that would spray me down as I ran.
A friend who makes sure you are presentable and sometimes I'm not.
Step back into upstage center. Head down. Shoulders slumped.
Like today when I farted.
Move to downstage center. Pause. Gesture finger to chin. Head tilted to the right.
But now when I think about it.
No matter what was happening in my gastrointestinal track.
Surely we all need a good fart joke every now and again.
Look directly at those children. Pray that they laugh.
So today I'll consider that fart something special.
It meant laughter.
(spoken word poetry for a drama class tomorrow. bracing myself for the next wave means planning to tell a good fart joke to a bunch of kids first thing on a Tuesday morning. With great risk comes hm. we'll see. I'm almost scared to think about looking at their little faces after saying this. maybe I won't.)