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Pooetry

The Steam at Sheen

I’ll tell you a story and believe me, it’s no lie.
I wouldn’t believe it if I didn’t come out my brown eye.

It was just another day and I was at work.
When all of a sudden something below began to twerk.

Unsure if a solid or percolation of gas.
So I held on to brew it by clenching my ass.

I continued to work to put my bowels at ease.
But before long I knew I had to shoot the breeze.

I held on longer to the brink of implosion.
This was going to be great… a terrific explosion.

Because I was at work I began to fear.
I had to make sure that the coast was clear.

I glanced to the left then glanced to the right.
It was safe so I blasted my trumpet with all my might.

Then half-way through I was suddenly at a loss.
Someone was standing behind me… and it was my boss!

Pure Pooetry

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