Please enjoy this essay and verse from the genteel and elegant 90-year-old Pat D’Amico of Kirkland

This drawing was published once before with a poem about eye contact in an elevator. It occurred to me that it might lend itself, once again, to a seldom mentioned subject concerning the olfactory and auditory senses. This is a subject that Emily Post has not addressed and the proper behavior needs some clarification.

From the cradle to the grave, every human being generates a certain amount of excess air in the digestive system that has to go somewhere. The expulsion of said air can be noisy, smelly or both. There must be a way to handle this situation in a dignified manner:

DEAR EMILY POST,

OK, Emily, or those who follow

Your lack of response to this subject rings hollow.

You say, get away. Don’t leave it to fate,

But. Emily, dear, sometimes it’s too late.

In spaces—confined—will you say what to do

When digestive distresses from last night’s stew

Emerge as either a sound or a stink:

Shall we say, “Beg your pardon” or shall we slink

Away while we cast an accusing eye

On the face of some other innocent guy?

So, kindly expound with a subject and predicate

And give us some guidance on flatulence etiquette.