Doctor-Patient Ice-Breaking

As we strap you in the stirrup, tell me what you do for work.

I work in advertising, selling distant dreams to jerks.
The things I make are substanceless; they’re all imaginary.

My work site tends to more tactile, and quite vaginary.

The pay is good but sometimes people’s smiles are gnashing teeth.

The view is great—but sometimes I can’t breathe because of queef.

WordPress daily writing prompts (words highlighted above).


I Decim-Ate It All

I had to eat the extra portion;
Now my colon’s in contortion.

All of it went in my face;
I ate it all, and left no trace.

Already had I had enough
To keep me flabby in the buff

But then another plate I ate.
This caused my guts to detonate,

Dinners past ex-herniate,
And cloud of brown to radiate.

The misty plague took many hues.
In clothes and hair did it infuse;

The cloud caused all around to grieve
And beg for oxygen reprieve.

If you wish your next mealtime to survive,
Try not to be there after I arrive.

WordPress daily writing prompts (words highlighted above).

Passed at Repast

When sitting down to dinner, I chanced to flatulate.
My lady did object to this, and me she did berate:
“A grown man should have greater couth, than rectum resonate.
Our guests are turning green, and brown is covering their plates.”
Ashamed I tried to look, as I watched her perorate.
Yet soon I tired of hearing her, went to my room-n-ate.

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Did You Hear That?

The strangest thing has just occurred:
A ripping sound I thought I heard.
And judging by the eau-de-turd,
It came from under, where you’re furred.

The only mystery that remains:
Someone should check your shorts for stains.

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