Something has blocked my fecal pipe.
I come up clean when I go to wipe.

Those delicious cashews have struck back.
And now my poop chute is under attack.

Just like a trade blockade in times of strife.
You could cut the mounting tension with a knife.

That’s a metaphor for the growing brown stock.
Currently going stale within this fleshy flock.

I desperately need to void these bowels.
With an saddened cry I release only a howl…

…To be concluded!