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Pooetry

The Loose Bowels

The loose bowels did bleat an unsettling howl…
Followed by a spluttering from its wet jowls.

I peeked at the shizzle brick, which made me sick.
The texture and stench were entirely septic.

The grotesque mess lay below, southward it did flow.
Porcelain speckled and glistened in a brown glow.

Another fecal floodin’ churned out all of a sudden.
Like a spell cast for a fresh shizzle to summon.

An accidental pooping spell, and a horrific smell.
A magical mishap made my gut violently propel.

The heaving blast came thrice, my rectum paid the price.
The torrent left my bowels feeling unlike a tight vice.

Pure Pooetry

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