and because it’s probably never been done before

I often write of work and food and cars
I have reviewed a book or movie too
I never spend lost weekends out at bars
I get my kicks from telling tales of poo

I sat upon my throne awaiting shit
the dog had joined me just to watch the fun
the smell, when it arrived, gave him a fit
and soon enough the dog was on the run

The wallpaper began to peel on top
the jelly in my eyes began to melt
I strained but found it didn’t seem to stop
it wasn’t fair, I thought, and then I felt

A giant turd begin to breach the rent
I squoze until it plopped into the bowl
the gas behind it soon began to vent
my sinuses would ne’er again be whole

I flushed before I stood just to arrest
the gas from swirling all around the room
I wondered why some others thought it best
to fabricate these tales of doody doom

I write about mine own brown tales of woe
No sense in robbing Paul to pay the Peter
I’ll do that which has ne’er been done befo’
and crapblog in iambic pentameter