Once upon an outhouse dreary, while I strained there, lank and leery
of creatures scary down beneath the privy floor--
As my veins were close to popping, suddenly there came a whopping
rush of air, but nothing dropping, dropping from my nethers sore,
“'Tis but a sputter", I then muttered, “popping like the thunder's roar--
only this and nothing more!”
Ah, distinctly I remember - it was in a warm September;
for bath tissue I dismembered - a flyer issued by the store.
Eagerly I wished for passing - that which had been amassing
in my numbles far surpassing - any grumbles heretofore
A gassing foul and shameless to deplore
Nameless here for evermore
Then, methought the air grew smelly, perfumed from my askew belly
The fumes of curry from the deli, like the breath of Balthazor
“Wretch,” I cried, “as God hath bent me—by what devils hath he sent thee?
Respite – respite! No more! Some forthright output, I implore!
Purge, oh purge this burning urge I'm yearning for!”
Shall I potty... Nevermore?
August 23, 2015
With apologies to EAP
Copyright © Roy Jerden