With 101 done It's time for a new number 1 Of poetic musings on taking a number 2. This second edition, of the poetry of poo Is ready to rock out—
I’m sorry, I’ve got to interject here that while I’m sitting in the loo, composing this poem and taking a poo, a lady poked her head in and asked, “Is anyone in here?” To which I replied, “Yes…” “Oh,” she said with unwarranted surprise (this is the men’s room after all). “Can you flush when you’re done?” She further inquired. “I always do,” I answered back testily. Seriously, what the actual fuck?? Anyway back to important shit:
And flourish and flout, The thinking and feeling of pooping each day. And pumping that out and sending it your way. So that we can all rejoice in the pleasure of a good dump And the words that flow from my giant brown lump Poo Poetry, Take Two From me, to you.