Breakfast was delicious but I might be in trouble.
Something deep down has started to bubble.
I let out a sour burp from my mouth.
Followed by a fart from the south.
The cloudy gas was a warning sign.
Sadly it was not the fragrance of pine.
The breakfast I ate was far too rich.
Now I have to scratch this brown itch.
The volatile mass within calls aloud again.
It’s a trumpeting that seems to never end.
Suddenly I lurch forward with a violent shove.
Must find a loo fast or I’ll need cleaning gloves.
Staggering here and there, bowels twist in pain.
An unloading into my pants, I must refrain.
Yet another angry heave as I clutch at my gut.
Cheeks clenched tightly to keep my butthole shut.
A vacant drain pipe I do spy.
It is time to let this fecal fly.
I’m squatting stealthily to make this quick and quiet.
Blasting the grizzly disgorge, outing the liquid riot.
Sighing with sweet relief, I take in my surroundings.
I missed the drain, my shoes covered in rancid drowning.