I knew the moment I awoke that something was amiss.
The light had changed, the air was moist, and other things like this.
And when I looked outside, I saw that while I’d been asleep,
The ground beyond was drenched in barf, around two inches deep.

It’s troublesome to go outside, for when I walk around,
My shoes pick up a covering of barf from on the ground.
And then, another blight when I come back inside the door:
A soggy trail is left behind my steps across the floor.

Ferahgo’s flight was cancelled, with good reason I suppose,
If pilots can’t see through the barf that caked their airplane’s nose.
What nauseous sort of world is this, where clouds must be bizarre,
And dump their stomach-contents on each runway, road and car?

If yesterday I’d watched the news, this might be less surprise.
They’d warned us that this barf would soon start dropping from the skies.
To find out how this happened, read my final text below:
(Scroll down a bit)
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In Farsi, the word barf is used for snow.