Inspired by shithouses on various highway rest stops. With apologies to Robert Frost and Ghost House.
I sit in a skanky house I know
And sat many an hour ago
Staring at the gray, steel stalls
O, ass, do ye hear my calls?
I need a long, brown log to grow!
O'er splattered pot walls, a fart has pealed
My ass, I hope, a shit will yield
My innards are now doing flops
The corn I ate producing crops
Perhaps I shall shit a field.
I deal with a strangely rancid fart
That threatens to blow my cheeks apart
Hoping, praying to dump my load
'Tis merely gas my ass has blow'd
Air comes; I would rather shit than fart
The turtlehead is coming out
As my bunghole's lips purse then pout
I feel my sphincter begin to sway
Hark! Perhaps a poop coming to play?
As it arrives, I cry out
"No, turd, you're thick as tar!"
I hope no one has fucked with my car.
I thought I only had to pee
Now, my asshairs cry in agony!
Doubtless, in a mire of flames, with an inferno, on par.
'Tis a fiery and tireless shit -- it makes me mad!
When I think of the travel time I once had
But out a final "plop!" sings
I wipe my ass, and flush this thing
I'm out of the shithouse, and am glad!