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.