flame in, flame out.
November 8, 2008
bowl of red
boiling spice
to dip our delicacies
boil, entice
our senses with
cow throat
cow heart
pig intestines
- ’my friends,’ i ask, ‘do you not realize what was squeezed through this?’
pig stomach
(among other things)
6pm I ate you down
4am you woke me up
climbing back into bed with
an arse afire
leader of the free world
November 4, 2008
an hour glass to slow the moments
as history before our eyes unfolds
one more scoop of sand here to
slow things up and one more
pile of crap here to swallow down
chew your grainy feces filled bite
get used to the grain, the taste, the fight
before night comes one more pile
goes down. up to your knees wearing
the presidential crown
thoughts on darwin?
October 2, 2008
henceforth
i move forth
from the froth
of primordial goo
hitherto
i move to
return to earth poo
as i pass through
trained my thought (of)
September 25, 2008
the days have been less kind to me
lately
i find myself more prone to awkwardly timed
bowel movements
than i did when i was young
depends
i suppose. what did i eat? where?
was there lactose? spice?
the days i suppose it depends, was there spice?
i find myself more awkwardly prone
to lactose timing
lately
less kind to my bowel movements
days lately. lactose and spice
awkwardly kind
where i suppose i eat
prone to when i was young
it all depends
pre - nuclear holocaust
September 24, 2008
fields of glass
asphalt homes next to cement parks
robot dogs
and this is pre-nuclear holocaust
Turds of Wisdom
September 17, 2008
Sitting lonely on the crapper,
feeling low though dressed quite dapper,
giving birth to a red snapper;
O sitting glowering on the throne,
gut-wracked, miserable, alone,
I eject a pebble, groan.
Here’s the key to life’s main question:
happiness is good digestion.
I got nothing
September 17, 2008
no inspiration
except for poo,
poo, poo, poo, poo
glorious poopoo
smooshed and smeared
and oozing across the page
in the form of words
pooetry day
September 17, 2008
and when on toilet i did sat
things came out and i did shat
the things i knew to come they did
unfortunately some on the lid
but poo is as poo does and we all poo poo
from small ones to big ones its still doo doo
be hard be it small or be it round
best if we keep it in our pants, in the bowl, off the ground
be it well written or be it shit
anything today will fit
poo in a can, a crapper, a bus, a tree
a day it will be of pooetry
Too Many Peanuts & Cracker Jack
September 16, 2008
Ballpark men’s room,
corner stall,
myriad Rogers
festering in the stool
and on the steel seat,
which we certainly can’t call stainless.
I squeezed out
of the men’s room
and the ballpark
and hurried home.
sometimes my mom called it hershey’s squirts
September 14, 2008
when you leave a roger
write a little note about it
share it with your friends
and let the world know
your joy
your weight before and after
consistency and whether or not
today you had sinkers
floaters
or exploders
the names in this poem have been changed to protect those it is obviously representing
July 10, 2008
little belinda
sad sad tale
hated bland bland food
but little belinda
sad but true
had a face as bland as poo
things that made us famous, but you’re still nobody
June 18, 2008
all too many people
shy away from the topic of poo
out of fear of offending
their mothers reading
their works when they finally
publish their own book
someday
the sieve can address it all
from rape to cannibalism
when we want to say pants
we say trousers
if i say trunk, i mean both
the ass of the car
and a garment to cover your ass
whilst you swim
i have boldly gone where you
have not
the deep has never challenged me
hover, and hold
squatting will keep you from having
to squeeze
but dont fall in
or you’ll become famous
you nobody.
Roger Mugs
rcribay
Ned
timsaslacker
joshuagrace
Julio Chapluzki
freakynewchild
Poeta Maximus
David X. Hugo
