Once upon an outhouse dreary, while I strain there, lank and leery
Of creatures scary down beneath the privy floor--
As my veins are close to popping, suddenly there comes a whopping
Rush of air, but nothing dropping, dropping from my nethers sore,
“'Tis but a sputter", I then mutter, “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 dismember - a flyer issued by the store.
Eagerly I wish for passing - that which has been amassing
In my bowels far surpassing - any gassing heretofore
A volume foul and shameless to deplore
Nameless here for evermore
Then, methought the air grew smelly, perfumed from my askew belly
The fumes of fish stew from the deli, like the breath of Balthazor
“Wretch,” I cry, “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