Original Granny Dump

Oh after-work pre-shower poo,
sweaty, filthy, naked too,
those who thought I stank before,
should poke their head inside this door.

O squirty poo at cocktail night,
cream and citrus churning fight?
But while my bowels are burning bright,
my brain is flying like a kite.

O guts ache tar-shit, thick and black
Barely budging though my crack
I mustn’t push despite the pain
Or else I’ll probably shit a vein.

O viscous cloying reeking sludge,
I strain and push to make you budge,
like acid tar you bring me pains,
I worry for my rectal veins.

O massive poo whilst rather pissed,
on a chart of hugeness you’d be listed,
I bet my ring is getting blistered,
its rather like i’m being fisted.

O morning poo in pre-dawn freeze,
frozen cheeks and thighs and knees,
while rising tendrils of warm air,
reek of “log du derriere”

O morning poo my arse you leave,
pushing through the aresepube sieve,
and for your parting I don’t grieve,
in fact it’s more like a reprieve.

O sneak-off poo on sat’day eve,
my midst of mayhem quiet reprieve,
but once you’re flushed then I am thinking,
I shall return to bongs and drinking.

O reeking log of fresh manure,
I’m not your master – I’m your poo-er.
not your maker -more your do-er.
and though your critics may sa OO-Err,
your horrid stench is foul yet pure,
so answer to the septic lure,
and venture forth into the sewer.

O stinking putrid rectal paste,
I glad my spincter cannot taste.
and as my toilet’s side you baste,
you smell so bad I must use haste.