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Pooetry

The Fecal Strangler

It’s now the time when I say hooray, and plant my cheeks and begin to spray.

But all of a sudden there is no spray, the pressure condensed my liquid to clay.

One by one smelly logs did drop, and with each log was a satisfying plop.

But something is wrong I’ve released a dangler, when it comes to turds I’m the fecal strangler.

Pure Pooetry

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