Category Archives: Poetry of the Arse

O evening poo I am your bride, as you ream me from inside, like a gay alien parasite, that hatched out in my guts last night.

O comtemplative evening ploppy, you leave my rectum warm and sloppy, you would make a healty drink, except you’re foul, toxic and stink.

O stinking log fresh from my arse, to deny your stench would be a farce, your horrid putrid evil reek, leaves my nasal region weak.

O acid rush of fine-lumped slurry, you pass my ring in quite a hurry, just like a foul horrific curry, or p’raps an oreo mcflurry.

O morning poo my morning poo, each morn I wake and free your brew, and so I write this ode to you, my daily friend my morning poo.

O morning poo you work of art, preceded by a lengthy fart, into the septic pipes to play, O reeking log of rectal clay.

O morning squeeze of body waste, you take your time and show no haste, as in the cistern you are placed, O reeking log of bowel paste.

O morning poo my pungent friend, heading down to the s-bend, leaving skid-marks in your rush, I’ll have to get them with the brush.

evening poo brought on by coffee, your texture is of molten toffee, in gurgling spurts you venture down, and turn the cistern’s water brown.

O evening poo you were a fighter, but I won – now I’m kilo’s lighter, I’m feeling light just like a bird, now that my guts aren’t full of turd.