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Magic, Pooetry

The Phantom of The Opoora

One fateful, frightful gloomy night,
I took a shit that became my blight.

I heaved and squeezed and dropped my load,
Such pain it caused, much grief and woe.

The sound it made when it left my bowels,
Reminded me of a bestial howl.

Then the end came, the deed was done,
The last chunk of brown left my bum…

As usual I stood to look back with pride,
To marvel at what had left my hide.

But lo and behold, the bowl was empty!
Just clean water, no recycled spaghetti!

I expected a hideous mutant poo,
But nothing, no mushy brown stew.

I heard a creak and what I hoped was wind,
Then I felt it, to the ground my feet were pinned.

An eerie breeze wafted past my nose,
“My god, I’m going to need a hose!”

Finally I was able to move, and I did,
I spun on my heels and left a brown skid.

But still nothing I spied, no visual trace,
“Screw this!” I said, and to my bed I raced.

Under the covers I shook with brown fear,
Drifting to sleep, I hoped I was in the clear.

Hours later I was stirred awake,
Something in my bowels made a quake.

That same evil scent entered my nostril,
It was ancient and pungent, like a fossil.

From nowhere I heard spooky organ music play,
Hoping to counter it I reached for the spray.

But I was too late, I felt my cheeks wriggle,
Between them, out came a little brown squiggle.

It flew out and hovered above the bed,
It was a turd ghost, oh my fears and dread!

It wrung itself out and dripped on the sheet,
This was far from a delicious treat.

It then started to shake violently,
Much like I when I birthed it silently.

Frozen in fear I let out a little shart,
The ghostly turd shot at me like a dart!

I leapt to action, blocked it with my pillow,
The stain it left weighed a kilo.

I formed a plan, I knew what to do,
Running, I left a brown trail to the loo.

Hardened with adrenaline I took a stand,
This was one turd that must be canned.

I taunted the pootergeist by flashing my starfish,
Did I have the balls, not just a death-wish?

It sped toward me with incredible force,
It was time to react, to show no remorse.

Grabbing some paper, I caught it in a sling,
My plan had worked, I am the shit king!

Popping the toilet seat open, it’s end was near,
Then it slid free, leaving a gross smear!

I was desperate and hasty, but I took no chance,
Grabbing with bare hands, I ended this ghost dance.

It struggled for freedom, shit spat everywhere,
I shouted “This is the last person you’ll scare!”

I slammed it into the bowl and closed the lid,
“Begone shit spawn! Return here I forbid!”

I flushed and went back to bed,
Finally some rest, nothing more to dread.

Comfort at last, warm in my sheets,
Oh no, I forgot, they stink of rotten meats.

Pure Pooetry

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