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Pooetry

Brace For Impact

Clutch the seat and brace for impact.
Too long has this stool been compact.
And now it’s time to let the fecal fly.
It’s gonna blast and we’ll soar on high.
Let’s countdown the shizzle to be crapped!

Three: The volatile mass is ready and primed.
Two: Only a brown cloud will be left behind.
One: The force explodes and the bathroom shakes!
Lift off! Deafening is the trumpeting it makes.
Brown surges downward as we make the climb.

Porcelain erodes and crumbles in the wake.
Blasting outward are a thousand brown snakes.
I am pummeled by waves of g-forces.
Nostrils inhale the scent of brown sauces.
Left below is a grotesque chocolate cake.

Pure Pooetry
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