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Pooetry

A Public Outing

Public toilets are not a nice place.
Their conditions are a filthy disgrace.

I hadn’t used one in quite a while.
But today I did and I did not smile.

The reeking suggests there was a brown mishap.
I guessed they’d missed the bowl with their crap.

The stink could be described as backdoor bile.
Then I noticed the floor. It was extremely vile.

The sight was sickening, like a rectal ricotta.
There were random chunks, and soggy blotters.

Leading to a cubicle lay a streaky brown trace.
Upon seeing it I gasped and covered my face.

Hushed cries and sobs echoed from within.
Along with blubbering sounds of pooing sin.

Like bubbling flaps against wet meat.
A visual was created and it was not neat.

My gut churned and I knew what was coming.
An expulsion of spew upward was forthcoming.

I dry heaved and lurched for the sink.
I threw my face downward, no time to think.

But alas! The sink already had been filled.
Someone had left in it their brown swill!

Pure Pooetry

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