Square Dance Patter Splatter - crude

For yer supper, vindaloo,
hop to the music doing a poo,
toilets are crowded, yer tummy is mush,
bang the doors and plead with 'em, 'Rush.'

Drop yer pants and let it go,
paper's all gone (but yet you don't know),
fearing the soap is now missing too, yes?
Well, jus' saying...You're in a mess!
Copyright © | Year Posted 2024

Poem

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Dietrich Avatar
May 28, 2024 at 3:38 PM
Haha. You need to throw in a few square dance commands. But at least it's really funny!
Greenhough Avatar
May 28, 2024 at 10:37 AM
Poem of a terrible nightmare. State fairs and ad hoc rock outdoor venues are chief offenders. Get that wrist stamped, take a break, and find a government building (tax funded). This down and dirty poem made me laugh.
Kendrick Avatar
May 28, 2024 at 8:29 AM
Yes, that would be a mess that needed fix'n. Thanks for sharing. Sara K
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