Friday, 25 November 2011

#97: Rock Bottom

Trent came round in a tin bath,
part submerged in his own faeces -
nope, no wait a minute,

he spotted a piece of sweetcorn there.
He never ate sweetcorn.
This was someone else's poo -
perhaps many people's, in fact,
a confederation of defecators, given the volume.

Well - advantage pranksters! he thought,
bearing the poo-blackout philosophically,
(as he had learned to, over the years)
and he began looking round for a towel.

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