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Pooetry

Doodoo Dread

Last night’s sleep was bad and filled with strife.
And a stink so thick you could cut it with a knife.

Nightmares of a tidal turd and a flooding of brown.
Fecal engulfed the cities and suffocated the town.

People washed away in an ocean of filthy matter.
The landscape left with nothing but a brown splatter.

Something I ate must have given me these dreams.
Something so sickening and putrid, what does it mean?

And now I awake with this horrid southern fear.
If I look down I’m afraid I’ll see a rancid smear.

I chance a sneaky peek and inspect my bedspread.
And there it is, the stain of the menacing doodoo dread.

Pure Pooetry

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