Synchronicity Poem, for the Spamslingers

  A Synchronicity of Poo  


I sat bolt upright in my bed,
A chill coursed its way through my bod.
I crapped.

Just a little bit, mind you, so
I clinched my sphincter tightly.
In vain.

Waddling to the bathroom like
A drunken penguin, grunting loud
I smell...

Something like old man’s rotten breath
And as it coursed down my pant legs,
I prayed

“Dear sweet Lord please let me get there
Before I soil the new carpet”
Uh-Oh!

Ploop! Out it dropped, ever so slight
A dollop like a Hershey kiss,
I lunged.


~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~*~


Like the Ohio River, the
Brown stream oozed and decorated
The tile.

That’s the LAST time, I swear, that I
Will eat Taco Bell right before
Bed time!