Old man can’t open the gate;
He’s got a blockerage, and try as he may,
It’s a backside that won’t—pardon—spray.
He can’t let go—hardened brick from what he ate.
Shit-nix fix: high c’lonic to unkink.

It’s like rain, on a wetting day,
Slicked, a greased slide, and it comes out in waves.
It ain’t cool as ice as the butthole does bake.
And whew! What lot was in there.

Clysters. . .played it safe—out it didn’t fly,
Impacted boot waste, and sphincter started to fry.
Abated, a hole-stanch plight. It won’t take flight.
He can’t display that brown; he’s clogged,
And that isn’t nice—
Shit-spritz fix: high c’lonic to unkink.

It’s like draining the dreck away—
Slicked, a greased slide, and it comes out in waves.
It ain’t cool as ice as the butthole does bake.
And whew! A whole lot was in there.

Well, shite has a bummy way of backing up in you,
So you drink a prune-juice parfait and wait for waste to take flight.
But shite has a bummy way of not coming out—then
You link with that tube that’s long
And blow water up into that place.

Then the mass unjams and it evacuates—
There’s a gross, flowing slime as a big one you take.
It’s like ten thousand spoons-
ful of castor oil ’bibed.
Like Fleeting,* but magnified, streams.
It’s not fleeting and won’t soon subside.
Yes, this is a high c’lonic that unkinks
A little too high c’lonic!
And, yeah, it REALLY unkinks!!

It’s like rain in a shedding way,
Slicked, a greased slide, and it comes out in waves;
It ain’t cool as ice: the water you intake.
Damn! Whew!! A “hole” lot was in there.
Damn! You now keep nothing in there—
And isn’t that ironic, don’t you think?

Shite has a runny way of leaking out of you,
Shite has a bum-free, runny way of cleansing you out. . .
Endless the spout.


*Fleet Enema (sodium biphosphate and sodium phosphate)