Search
Pooetry

Symphony of Shite

The After Grog Bog was not talked about today. The devastation horrendous, good glaven, what a spray.

Of solid size and formidable force, the logs tugged on my anus, like the reins on a horse.

With each agonising push I hoped for the plop, that sound that signals the brown will stop.

And the plops I did hear, using all my might. It was music to my ears. Like a symphony of shite.

Pure Pooetry

No comments

You can be the first one to leave a comment.

Leave a Reply

Search