There once was a guru of Ind
Who fasted and rapidly thinned:
     They offered him Gogurt:
     He said, "That's not yogurt!"
And broke—in disgustedness—wind.

Farting Frank used ****
   rather furtively
A real Frank-furter Farter
    was he.

But mellifluous Maeve
   she'd **** loudly all day
She couldn't care less
   what came out of her derriere.

Whenever you ****
Just think about all the things
That you ate today

the universe is a big *******
that farts electro-magnetic x-rays
that can only be smelled by a
another universe that is a giant
nose;

"This is telling us the black hole
feeding rate is controlling the
strength of the jet it produces,"
Pasham said in a statement.

"A well-fed black hole produces a
strong jet, while a malnourished
black hole produces a weak jet
or no jet at all.

This is the first time we've seen a
jet that's controlled by a feeding
supermassive black hole."

"We know that the radio waves
are coming from really energetic
electrons that are moving in a
magnetic field — that is a
well-established process,"
Pasham said. "The debate has been,
where are these really energetic
electrons coming from?"

One possibility is that, in the moments
following the stellar explosion, a shock
wave moves outward, energizing the
plasma particles and causing them to
emit radio waves.

Let's say the universe is a stinky tail;
who would want to be next to a black
hole farting & burping through space
& time & stinking up all known being

what God the Father's nose is waiting
around for a single eruption or many
that wafts through the room when his
***** cuts loose something akin to an
atomic bomb on a supermassive scale

what God the father indeed; what son
pulls his finger to get the cosmic joke

Another poem from the pen of my alter ego Barry Hodges

Half asleep, I sense you rise from the bed
Where we have shared love's passion,
Your sweaty body glistening as the dawn's early light
Peeks through the curtains of our ensuite bedroom.
O! To think that our great love affair must end
Now that your husband has threatened
To asphyxiate your six dear children
If you do not cast me aside like a worn out shoe.
And when I awake fully I find you gone forever,
The only souvenir of our last night together
Being a small squashed **** lying on the stained bedlinen.
O! How can I ever forget such a tragic awakening?

FOOTNOTE
[I knew from bitter experience of similar occurrences that dear old Mrs Bloggs (Seaview Bijou B&B;, The Esplanade, Ramsgate, Kent) was bound to make a hefty surcharge to disinfect the bedding thoroughly. What an unromantic old ***** she was, may she rot in Hell forever.]