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Pooetry

Christening The Crapper

You may not believe this story that I tell…
Because you did not witness the horrific smell.

But trust me and believe that this story is true.
Because you know me, this one’s about poo.

Earlier today I had a visit from my plumber.
But it was a good thing, not a total bummer.

Usually, a plumber will come to fix emergencies.
Such as foul flooding and fecal surgency.

But this was arranged and booked in advance.
Later I’ll be doing a happy doodoo dance!

I let him in and showed him to the bathroom.
I pointed to the throne of decay and gloom.

The plumber gasped and froze on the spot.
I guess he never expected to see such rot.

It was decrepit and rusty, at least 50 years old.
The previous owners abused it, or so I am told.

Too many clogged pipes and overflowing brims…
I’ll tell you what, I’d had it up to my chin!

The white faded to yellow, it could barely even flush.
Crumbling, eroded, the plumber had seen enough.

I wanted to see that porcelain smashed to bits.
I’ve had to endure one too many shit fits!

It was time to say farewell, and not in a nice way.
The sooner this thing was gone, the better I say.

But I decided to settle for a clean and simple removal.
Never to feed this abomination another stink strudel.

And today was the day, the plumber would install a newie!
A brand new throne to dump all my brown gooey!

I waited patiently while he did his job.
Meanwhile, I built my internal mushy blob.

You see, for days leading up to this event…
I’d been saving myself for a big bowel vent.

After the plumber had left I stood there in awe.
It was a dream to have a loo not covered in gore.

It’s glorious shiny white surface, so bright and clean.
Brought a tear to my eye and a tingle in my spleen.

All this time I had saved myself for this brand new loo.
I had been storing it up till my face had turned blue.

The occasional fart had escaped my clenched cheeks.
They’d been clamped shut for about two weeks.

Each stinky hiss was a reminder of vigilance.
I didn’t want a premature pants incidence!

I would grit my teeth and ignore heavy bowel grief.
Soon I’d be feeling enormous southern relief.

I prepare the rectal ritual and lock the door tight.
The time has come for one hell of a shite!

So it’s out with the old and in with the new…
Now here comes that epic, monstrosity of a poo!

Pure Pooetry

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