Search
Pooetry

Bronze Finger

He’s the man with the mushy touch.
His finger slipped just a bit too much.

While wiping to escape the rancid stink.
He rushed when he shoulda stopped to think.

His golden turds pour into the bowl.
These turds are dark, dark like coal.

Oh mister Bronze Finger…
Even though the stink lingers…

You should have taken your sweet time.
A delicate wipe avoids the slime.

Don’t wipe when you are in such a hurry.
You’ll make contact with the slurry!

Oh mister Bronze Finger…
Even though the stink lingers…

The toilet tissue is much too thin.
In this battle, only bronze will win.

And you’ll be forced to use the scrubbing brush.
Under your fingernail, caked with mush!

Oh mister Bronze Finger…
Even though the stink lingers…

Pure Pooetry

No comments

You can be the first one to leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Search