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Pooetry

The Brown Sweats: Part III

I’ve got The Brown Sweats.
This morning, in my duvets.
Then again at breakfast time.
Dacks filled with brown slime.
But it’s subtle, unlike a blasting jet.

It beads and collects discreetly.
Until your undies feel heavy, concretely.
So you must wipe without laying the brown.
It’s inconvenient and you’ll feel a clown.
So do it stealthily and sneakily.

Pure Pooetry

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