“Stopping by the Woods to Poop on a Summer’s Eve” by R. Frost
I stopped by the woods on a warm summers eve,
By a mending wall drenched in sun.
And deep in my bowels, from odours so foul,
Twas time that I baked a fresh bun.
Idaho: an apology
After another analytic check, it seems two very forward thinking people from Idaho have in fact checked out the Correctness.