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Pooetry

Blasting The Block

Substance within is about to explode.
This gut harbours a deadly payload.

Flatulence attack unprecedented.
Rupturing bubbles all fermented.

Bowel inflated to a dangerous level.
I dare not make a deal with the devil.

Yet I must keep this under key and lock.
For this will consume a city block.

One small slip could sink a warship…
Erupting a stench worse than the tip.

But the fuse is ignited, time runs low…
If I don’t act now, abdomen will blow!

Do I call the bomb squad or call the cops?
Or option three, dump these damn slops!?!

Pure Pooetry

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