Pooetry, War

The Apoocalypse

In the middle of a thick, wild and hairy battle.
I paused to release my ass of it’s fecal cattle.

All around a fierce rumbling sound.
The stall next door was crumbling down.

Ok, so this isn’t a full scale, world-ending war,
But my ass is Hell and is feeling quite sore.

Oh yes, this is a shit that could destroy a planet.
Its texture is a grimdark brown, like granite.

There’s a distinct aroma of a gassy substance.
Its flammable compound is in abundance.

A hazardous mass, it could explode any second now.
It would start an apoocalyptic reaction somehow.

I dare not light a match, not even to erase the smell.
For if I did, I’d condemn us all to a fiery fecalĀ Hell.

Pure Pooetry

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