Tuesday poops, uninspired Looking through what's transpired, My waste details How my food entails Of what I choose to chew and eat. And this poo in particular Was not what I would dub spectacular. Kind of rough And a little tough To push out and expulse while on the toilet seat. But it was not terrible to be true Just a little less pleasant than a normal poo. But in the end This poo did send And now it's time for lunch; time to eat.
Monday begins with a mighty send
Full of odors most foul.
As it came, fast and explosive around the bend
This poo announced it’s presence with a mighty howl!
Seriously though, I wish I had a gas mask
It’s unusual to hate your own brand
But Christ, sitting here, an unpleasant task
I cannot believe the smell at hand.
Truly powerful, beyond compare.
I’ve never created such a stench
It smells of rotten foreboding and despair
Like the mustard gassed, trapped in the trench.
Ever wonder, before TP, what we did
After a mushy poop from your butthole slid
Only halfway out, leaving behind shit on your behind?
Well I did, and look of course, and here’s what I did find:
Sticks for those in the East
Scraping away a fruit fly’s feast
Though China did first use TP
While water for the Arabs post poop and pee.
Europe, well they weren’t so clean
Which why refusal to shake a French left hand isn’t mean
Because they scrapes away feces by hand
Probably the grossest method in all the land.
Righteousness! It pours
Or rather flows smoothly out
Like blackheads from big pores
When pinched hard from the snout.
Deliciousness! Chicken cutlets, last night
I made well but wanted beer
For washing down, something light
But full of flavor, ya hear!
Ridiculousness! To the toilet it goes
Like a gaping porcelain hole
Awaiting poop morsels, it knows
That me, the one pooping, has no soul.
The blue whale of shits
So long, I had to stand
Grossly, the tip, my scrotum it hits
My balls, now stained by my brand.
More to come
Though not with ease
But here joins Pat, to add some
And wow! The sound of his, please!
He’s quick, that Pat
Pooped, wiped and left
In less time than I sat
His poo was most deft.
But now I am finished as well
Time to clean the dirt star
And get back to hell
Which for me, is about on par.
Why spit before you piss?
Never understood this,
Need to hock one in
Before you begin.
It’s a weird notion
This spitting then pissing commotion.
A territorial marking?
To pave the way for urine parking?
Well, as it did happen, while I sat down,
My load came out, a color hardly brown,
And I heard him spit, right in the bowl
Before unleashing from his pisshole.
I don’t like it, I must tell you.
This spitting before pissing, while I poo.
Not one fucking bit.
So I encourage you to refrain from spitting, while I shit.
This poop, such work!
I ignored it’s first cry
So now it’s a jerk
Resisting while I try
To find relief!
To push it out
And end my grief
And this difficult bout.
More greens I swear!
I will load up on fiber
Too much to bear
Till the poops will find her
That glorious burst
Of an easy poo
That leaves like a hearse
From the loss of you.