Poetry: 1656

THE FARTS EPITAPH.

READER, I was borne and cryed
Crackt so, smelt so, and so dyed.
Like to Caesars was my death,
He in senat lost his breath;
And alike inter'd doth lye,
The famous Romulus and I.
And, at last, like Floria faire,
I left the common wealth mine aire.

--From The muses recreation--

I think the popularity of poetry had declined in direct proportion with the ability of poets to publish fart jokes.

Of course in the future, no one will understand our biting political humor; all they'll find find funny is our fart jokes and the like.