Those who can’t Poo, Review.

Poem - Those who can't poo, review.


Blocked up and Bitter.

Too many rejections and not enough of the other.


A cacophony of coilers in the caustic conjectures

A gust of hot air, made solid

A tangible fillet of flatulence.


It’s like the stamp without the adhesive

The spit without the polish

The torch without the blow

It’s the hard, cold truth

Of One.


It’s an intellectual Island

Devoid of inhabitants.

It’s a pure same-seeks-same hanker

For another Wanker.



Tsk Tsk

It has to be said

It must be honest

Yet a dash of acerbic spice

And venomous cattiness

Is the required juice

The necessary ingredients

For this snooty serving

Though turgid on the tummy

And it barricades the bowels

Yet,

The Holier than thou must Exult!

Let’s face it...

Those who can’t do,

Insult.


Finally,

Summed up

With the infamous last line

The crème de la crap…


It’s a one equals one

Stew.

All for the frustration of…

I can’t Poo.


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