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Pooetry, Cheese

Gorgonzola Gunk Funk

I’m in a bit of a pickle, I’m in a bit of a funk.
I’ve eaten so much cheese my poo is a sickly gunk.

Yet I must push out this old crumbly gurk.
Though movement is slow when it’s a sticky spurk.

It all clumps together as I try to drop my load.
I feel it sludging outward as it leaves my rectal abode.

And the smell is right on the nose, tangy and rich.
I screw up my face as my body does a full twitch.

I nearly fall of the seat, saved by my quick reflexes.
The porcelain is where I must keep my southern recesses.

I avoided a brown cheese spread on the floor.
Having multiple cleanups is something I abhor.

I imagine it coming out stringy like stretched mozzarella.
Stench is so potent, about it I could write a novella.

Or maybe I’m unloading huge wheels of poo cheese…
It might explain the rectal discomfort, my lower unease.

Time to finish so I peel the last plastic wrapper.
Then use it to wipe and flush it down the crapper.

Pure Pooetry

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