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Pooetry

We Need a Plumber

Someone better call a plumber…
Because my bowels awoke from their slumber!

Toxic waste rained down with tremendous splatter.
I’m in disbelief that the porcelain didn’t shatter.

Carnage like a sickening, muddy slaughter.
Mixed with highly corrosive dark ass water.

You know the smell of severe gut rot?
Well, that’s nothing compared to this grave plot.

I blasted nuggets with a trace of corn.
My taint is burning… I’m dreading the morn.

I hope this fecal evil decides to vamoose.
I wouldn’t wish this torment on anyone’s caboose.

Pure Pooetry

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