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Pooetry

Anacondung

The inner Mr. Whippy is curled inside my gut.
In a moment it will uncoil and spew out from my butt.

This dreaded brown snake is slimy and sinister.
A bit like a shifty Australian Prime Minister.

I feel like The Cursed Snakey Poos are making a comeback.
Only it’s a thicker reptile now slithering from my crack.

It protrudes from its nest, oozing like wet cement.
Into the murky waters, beginning its foul descent.

A dip into the water goes my long foul snakey tail.
I try to clench and break it off but it’s not frail.

Sinking to the doodoo-depths where dreadful things lurk.
Yet still connected to my hole is this leathery gurk.

The viper is half in the water and half inside my ass.
I sit contemplating again, how much time must pass?

An extension of me is this never-ending serpent of slime.
The shame of endlessly birthing this fecal offspring is mine.

Pure Pooetry

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