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Pooetry

Poolates

I sat down for my midday fecal feat.
A kind soul before me had warmed the seat.

With little effort I let the ooze flow.
And my face showed a happy glow.

KER-PLOP!

My nugget entered The John.
It left ripples like in a pond.

This peaceful feeling is quite tranquil.
For this quiet poo-time I’m thankful.

A serene feeling washes over my body.
Meaty-poo-meditation is my new hobby.

I call it Poolates, instead of Pilates.
It’s much that same, especially the farties.

And with a final brown heave I’m done.
I whisper a mantra then wipe my bum.

Pure Pooetry

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