Just Another Day

Just another day

Filling the toilet

Routine is bla

I poop, I wipe, I yearn for excitement

What can I do?

But deliver the poo

Maybe tomorrow

I’ll take off my pants

Probably not, I’ll just continue,

my pooping rants.

Flush.

2nd Chances

Half of my poo was frightened away

But now, with much joy, I can gladly say

That this has become a two for one day!

A quick little jaunt

Down my usual haunt

With a pair blue suede shoes, I most definitely did flaunt

And consume a nice portion of the soup that I want

Which quickened my belly

And led to a poop, that’s most exquisitely smelly.

And so I am as happy

As my slap happy pappy

From two poops and some soup

That went plippity plop ploop.

 

Lost Notes

I held my poo for far too long

I sat and waited for the stall

I lost the notes of my poo’s song

My neighbor, his poo sang constant, echoing off the wall.

Later I shall eat, chilly

And poo again, I hope

For it is quite silly

To sit here and cope

With such a meager pooping after waiting for so long.

Cookies and Cream

Late night snacks, fill me with fear

A feeling of dread, so very queer.

Will the morning hold, a burst or a plug

Will it linger in the shadows like some two-bit thug?

Will it demand extraction during a meal?

Will it declare itself loudly like a thunderous peal?

This is the problem of eating so late

The uncertainty it bears on my pooping fate.

But, like, 22 Oreos and 2 glasses of milk

Surprisingly came out, smooth as silk.

So this time was fine, but still I worry

That the next midnight snack ends in fury.

Public Pooping Perils

I saw you leave, you in the red hat.

I remember your face, as I sought to sit where you sat.

And I’d like to ask you a thing or two, like

Why you made such a mess in the loo.

You peed on the seat and failed to flush

But when you sauntered out, you were clearly, in no rush.

We work in the same place

And like I said, I remember your face.

So next time our paths cross and I look you right in the eye

Just know that I know, and I will not say hi.

Poopity

Poopity Poop and his pestering pleas

Of would I poop in a stand of trees

I would not poo in a stand of trees, would you now, kindly leave.

But could you, would you in a fair?

Would you could you poo with flair?

No, I could not, would not in the fair and most assuredly, I would not, could not! poop with flair. Now please, I beg, get out of my hair!

But Poopity Poop could not leave, so instead he had to ask, would you, could you poo with me? Oh please, oh please, a simul-poo for all to see!

No no no, I will not poo with thee! I could not, would and most definitely should not, try to take a poo with you for all to see!