The fart machine

By Rachel Smith

Boy did they wish I never practised trombone
They said, "Just sleep, and leave us alone"
At the crack of dawn I'm up - it's a guarantee
No one's a more steadfast practiser than me
Six in the morning, I'm honking away
Classical to jazz - all types of music I'll play
But my family prefer sleep over my trombone
And how they wished I would improve at trombone
They said, "You really ought to work on your tone"
All sorts of farting sounds came out of that thing
Mum even thought I'd be better just to sing
A squeak here, a honk there and radio static
Buzzes and burp sounds - I needed work at it
Yes, my family didn't like that trombone
Oh how they wished I never started trombone
"It's a fart machine!" my Dad would moan
I didn't listen, and did my own thing
But even still they just kept moaning
"Fine then, I'll quit," one day I exclaimed
"But what'll wake me up?" my brother complained
"You're not too bad, didn't you know?"
"Yeah, I quite liked listening to you blow"
Deep down I'm sure they love that trombone

Rachel Smith, Year 10, St Kentigern College

- NZ Herald

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