Prickly Pete / Stuck in The Mud

This blocked turd defies gravity.
Stuck fast, drives me to insanity.
Heaving, I grunt and groan,
Then release a desperate moan.
Oh the poomanity!

Now my legs have gone numb,
Cos this shit won’t exit my bum.
So I start pleading with this poo,
“Was there something I didn’t chew?”
“Please do me a favour, brown chum.”

I must get rid of this foul meat.
It certainly doesn’t smell sweet.
In fact it feels rather prickly.
A sensation far too sickly.
It must be wearing cleats.

I’m without a paddle up shit creek.
Now my knees are feeling weak.
This spiky shit has cast it’s anchor.
It feels like a stubborn, shifty banker.
Clinging steadfast inside my cheek.

So close to leaving my rump,
I can feel the gooey lump.
Stuck like mud it doesn’t budge.
There’s no relief from this sludge.
I’m going to need the vacuum pump.

Pure Pooetry

No comments

You can be the first one to leave a comment.

Leave a Reply