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Pooetry

St. Pootrick’s Day

Today my poop comes out green under the gills.
You’d be forgiven for thinking I’m feeling ill.

It’s nothing special, here’s the truth of the matter.
St. Pootrick’s Day has tinted my messy splatter.

There are several shades of the traditional colour green.
Turquoise, lime, camo and even spoiled baked beans.

And just as my lucky shamrock has four green leaves.
My squirts come out in quadruples, runny with sleaze.

There’s no pot of gold at the end of this fecal rainbow.
My porcelain instead, gives off a rancid and steamy glow.

Ah, to be sure this is one mighty fine Irish poop.
But I might pass out from the stinking toxic soup.

So I wipe my butt with a few lumpy potatoes.
Careful not to bake them, y’know how that goes!

Pure Pooetry

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