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Pooetry, Coffee, Mornings

Recipe For Poosaster

It was a cold and lazy Sunday morning.
Stepping out of my room, my butt was yawning.

Breakfast was served and so was the coffee.
Bacon and eggs… the recipe for brown toffee.

Shortly after the wind began to blow…
Not a cold northern, the wind from down below.

The percolation was like a tumble dryer.
Violently tumbling… the situation now dire.

As a caution, I decided to sit on the loo.
Was the spin cycle finished? I had no clue.

Before I knew it, it started to happen…
A monsoonal explosion, a momentous crappin’!

Pure Pooetry

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