Call a Plumber

Every time I poop its gigantic in girth.
Forget the bowl I worry about planet Earth.

Hurdling into the bowl like an assteroid from outer space.
Easily capable of wiping out the entire human race.

It’s clogging bowls and flooding the streets.
Something sinister happening between my cheeks.

Maybe I’ve developed some sort of super-power!
Something that makes King Kong’s brown chowder.

Or maybe I’m a weapon of ass destruction.
The smell alone can cause a concussion.

And what if I’m possessed by fecal demon?
Honestly, I’m struggling to find a logical reason.

So please take heed, doodoo disaster is coming.
If I’m at your house you better check the plumbing.

Pure Pooetry

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