Leaving me now is last night’s dinner.
It was a spectacular feast, a real winner.
Cooked to perfection, a meaty BBQ deluxe.
But I birth this poo and I exclaim “Oh shucks!”
It comes out hot, searing my delicate taint.
The steam rising out is enough to make me faint.
But I keep it together, and take a deep breath.
Only to inhale the stink of doodoo-death.
The aroma is so awful, it hardly resembles the meal.
If this stink was a law, I would protest for a repeal.
I grab the air freshener for a mid-shit spray.
It keeps the pungent poo temporarily at bay.
Oozing into the bowl, another chunk of man meat.
The stench returns and is far from discrete.
Such a dumping, I consider taking off the rest of the day.
But I man up and tell myself I’ll be okay.
I’ll be victorious and defeat this monster meat unloading.
Then another fist-sized mass announces a foreboding…
Somehow I made it, and I already feel much stronger.
The wretched hot feeling in my cheeks is with me no longer.
I’m able to painlessly walk easily, and proudly I strut away.
My rectum survived this meaty battle to shit another day.