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Pooetry, War

Splurkin’ The Gherkin

I was oozin’ the poodin’…
But the squirtin’ was a-hurtin’.

So I eased on the squeeze…
And clenched my flow of sleaze.

Then the pickle began to tickle.
So I increased to a slow trickle.

The tingle subdued, now in a better mood.
Far more casually and calmly, I poo’d.

But a sudden blast came floorin’!
I couldn’t cease the outpourin’!
Now the toilet tribes were warrin’!

Violence in the bowl was eruptin’!
White porcelain was brownly corruptin’!

To put an end to all this fightin’…
My cheeks did firmly tighten.

But the only way to restore peace…
Was to blast the atomic grease!

Releasing the payload, I shed a tear.
Now all that remains is a terrible smear.

Pure Pooetry

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