It’s been two weeks
Where Monday brings the biggest load
The volumes it speaks
Of how the poop at work flowed
But ceases in the home.
Friday night rages, Saturday pagan ritual
Tons of food consumed
But for the gas, the spectre of poop was virtual
Like as a body exhumed
It is there, but nobody’s home.
And now I swear ten pounds less
I must be
For when I peer down at this mess
I do see
Why I did not shit while I was home.