Plastic Bag

Here’s another tale and yes it’s true.
And as usual, it’s all about poo.

I have a brother, several years younger.
One day found himself in a poo-blunder.

While driving home he felt the urge…
His bowels were in need of the purge.

His destination was still a while to go.
His overflowing bowel was ready to blow.

By now he couldn’t hold it in any longer.
The force was building stronger and stronger.

He made a decision, not his finest.
To release his ass of it’s fecal sinus.

He pulled the car over, on the double.
He’d given in to the brown trouble.

On a stranger’s front lawn he spilled his guts.
And unloaded his rear of the chocolate donuts.

It was bright as day, he may have been seen.
And now he needed to wipe his fleshy bean.

But without toilet paper he was in a bother.
No one wants poo on their pants collar.

In his pocket, he pulled out something plastic.
A PVC shopping bag, nothing fantastic.

The slippery, shiny bag was all he had.
So he wiped with it, a feeling so bad.

Imagine how that felt between the cheeks.
I wonder if the plastic bag gave a squeak.

Pure Pooetry

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