Minding My Own Business
Here I am minding my own business… When my bowels think it’s Christmas. What’s happening? Is it a party or …
Pure Pooetry
An Unpleasant Outing
I just had an unpleasant outing. Of some sickening sauerkrauting. Allow me take you back to the start. As usual it …
Pure Pooetry
Meteorite Madness: Part 3
Continued from Part 2! I light the match and drop it into the bowl. Breaking up the brown boulder is …
Pure Pooetry
The Facilities
Every day I’ve a new ache and pain… And every other, a new brown stain. It’s not what I expected …
Pure Pooetry
A Bad Feeling
I have a bad feeling… From a fart I was peeling… It gave a resounding echo. I’ve had too many …
Pure Pooetry
Plunging To Death
I swear this plane just hit some rough turbulence… Just as I blasted away some lengthy flatulence. I’m miles above …
Pure Pooetry
Something’s Not Right
Something below doesn’t feel right. Something nearby smells of shite. The feeling is off and somewhat unsavoury. Is my crease …
Pure Pooetry
Christening The Crapper
You may not believe this story that I tell… Because you did not witness the horrific smell. But trust me …
Pure Pooetry
Channeling The Shitstorm
The stars have aligned, my bowels are primed. Centuries have waited for this brown grime. Within me brews an epic …
Pure Pooetry
The Number of The Bog
Menacing fart clouds predict an ominous storm. An ancient evil prophecy is about to be born. Now I’m dropping a …
Pure Pooetry
Turned To Darkness – Part III
After what seems a millennium The Count has risen. A full brown moon is out and nuggets will be spillin’. …
Pure Pooetry
Turned To Darkness – Part II
The challenge is made, the challenge is issued. I grab my wand wrapped in toilet tissue. Papa Poosepi has challenged …
Pure Pooetry
Fanning The Flames
I’m laying in bed in the dead of night. My bowel rumbles and needs to shite. But first I sound …
Pure Pooetry
Super Weekend Slurry
I was sitting down minding my own business… When my bowels became restless did fidget. A trump did sound… a …
Pure Pooetry
A Whale of a Time
The skies above are raining cats and dogs. But in my porcelain, it’s a storm of bogs. A wet one …
Pure Pooetry
A Gentleman…
A gentleman doesn’t flush in the middle of the night. To show he cares he leaves the steaming shite. For …
Pure Pooetry
Excrapvation
When you need to go in deep… To wipe out that heinous ex-meat. You consider using the ice cream scoop. …
Pure Pooetry
The Ghastly Appoorition Returns
The ghastly appoorition has returned. My bowels have simply not learned. I failed to eat well. My rear emits a …
Pure Pooetry
