The Second Circle Doesn’t Know Such Winds!

The gas did not pass
But thunder in frenzied rage
Whilst the boulders fell 

Dirty Hands

Gruesome fingers curled
Into an abhorrent fist
“What teamwork!” I thought 

What Is This Shit?

Bizarrely vocal
The toilet was protesting
Rightly so: it’s huge 

Immaculate Excretion

It lasted seconds
A single log, clean and moist
Boasting a proud stench 

The Zealots

Like rancid limpets
Some clung hard to my buttocks
Some defied the flush 

Upchucked, Upstaged

Fouler things than poop
Marred the bathroom this morning
Mouth became as arse

Jaws Of The Abyss

My one stool settled
As a tongue in its gullet:
The porcelain beast

The Singularity

Ineffably dense
The osmium of faeces
My arse the chemist

A Closer Look

Subsequent soiling
Showed further rancid contours
Reflected in me 

Through The Looking Arse

Saw myself today
In the toilet, not mirror
I feel how shit looks