Dinner is served

Steak and potatoes in

Lumpy turds out

Large, brown, smelly with sin

Deadly no doubt

Happy excretion it was not

Soulless, aye

Fighting the pot

The whole thing smacked of why.

You’ve Missed Me, I know

You’ve missed me, I know
And all the poos, unbestowed
But I’m back in the saddle
With both hands on the paddle
Ready to steer through the poop
And keep you in the loop
Through poetic verses
Of how the poo transverses
And fills up the bowl
To blow your mind hole.
Poo Poetry, take 3.
It’s just you all and me.


A weekend of junk

Filling my gut

High smelly, like a skunk

As it leaves my butt.


But I ran in the morning

To better my body

And pass from the mourning

Of the tasty food that’s quite shoddy.


And now I must wipe

That brown eye of mine

To keep it the type

Of glistening, clean shine.