Submit your work, meet writers and drop the ads. Become a member
Aug 2018
I write these words
Whilst sitting on the can
Can you fold paper?
The paper man can!

He is sitting right next to me
Stuck to the wall
He's rolled up quite neatly
In a cylindrical ball

I'll pull a few sheets
Cause I'll need them for wiping
I'll do it right after
I finally  stop typing

I'll wipe once or twice
And turn around a check
I think I'll wipe thrice
To be sure, what the heck?

I'll flush it all down
In a brown yellow swirl
I'll wave to it goodbye
Then curtsey like a girl

Wash my hands, wash my face
I'll grab for Fabreeze
I'll spray it like mace
Smells like sweet island breeze

I feel so relieved
As I head for the door
That my ****** excretions
Are in me no more!
Jack L Martin
Written by
Jack L Martin  47/M/Somewhere Else
(47/M/Somewhere Else)   
617
 
Please log in to view and add comments on poems