Oops

An over-confident gnat,
Met his end with a terrible splat.
In a bungled maneuver,
On a flight through the louver,
What he thought was a slit was a slat.

 

Gale Warning

That was you passing wind, sir, I trust?
Let us pray that it doesn’t combust.
And the stench that it launched,
Will it ever be staunched?
I guess I’m aghast at your gust.