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Coffee, Pooetry

Maxed Out on Coffee

I’m on coffee number two and it’s only 10am.
Something tells me I’ll be destroying the S-bend.

The clock reaches midday and I’ve reached number four.
My bowel is feeling heavy, it might even hit the floor.

I take a late lunch and with it a chocolate mocha.
Soon I’ll need to offload at Davey Jones’ Locker.

I’m feeling the effects of the coffee, the zippy busy buzz.
Something inside is also stirring, causing more than a little fuss.

I’m such a fool to think there’d be no repercussions.
When suddenly my bowel gives me a whopping concussion.

My gut is spinning wildly, it feels like a turntable.
This shit is gonna smell like a horse stable.

In the middle of this mall with all eyes on me…
I’m staggering left and right with nowhere to flee…

There’s no loo in sight, I can’t help but start to panic.
My gut starts to boil, this shit feels volcanic.

I find the info booth and ask the lady for directions.
I’ve a bad feeling my pants will get a brown injection.

She begins to point me the right way to go…
But I’ve drifted off as my bowels begin the flow.

Pure Pooetry

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