Tuesday, June 10, 2008

More Boring than Shit!

I wrote my last post mainly about my diminutive Okinawan-American friend, Ralph, because otherwise he said he wouldn't read my blog. Readership immediately plummeted and he has yet to acknowledge the great honor I have done him.

However, all is not lost. I want to prove to Ralph that a poem about bowel care is more interesting than he. Below, a first draft on helping regularity.

Knowing that he is less than shit will likely not discourage Ralph in the least from his monumental narcissism, but if readers cooperate it might give him pause—just enough pause to consider pausing for that special moment.



Loosening Up (or "How to Prevent Hemorrhoids")

Lugubriousness, despite its sound,
can lead to constipation.
Douse it with Hoison sauce
and Louisiana assonance,
sublime your glossary
with fresh oysters and okra,
habaneros, jalapenos
and dragon claws.

Add roughage of indigestible
poems replete with fillers
culled from second-rate sonnets,
needless modifiers and articles,
superfluous conjunctions.
Swallow hackneyed emotion
as you would an oil puddle
with rainbow slime
(don't swallow the sun, it burns).

Absorption, irritation, bulk:
these are the trinity of flow.
Grind up a broom handle
and make a sawdust patty,
fry in bacon grease, coat with Tabasco,
follow with heaps of water.

Hail irritants and bulk as friends--
senna to flex your colon,
psyllium to mulch your stomach,
grasshoppers dipped in chocolate
for the chitin, try not to vomit
(use bisacodyl in a pinch).

The more you eat what can't be used
(absorbent without being absorbed)
the happier you'll be.
Done right, you'll hardly need to push
(Your anus thanks you heartily!).


  1. Your anus thanks you heartily!

    I don't know about this poem, CE. It's certainly clever, I will say that. Perhaps excrement-related writings are an acquired taste.


  2. This is the sort of thing that cries out for Gilbertian rhyme, sort of a coprophiliac patter-song.

  3. Craig, We (some more than others) suffer from self doubt and feelings of impotence. We struggle each day denying the gnawing inevitability of our worthlessness. It hurts to admit that our penises are small. But in some measure, this can be overcome. We must free ourselves from things that control our emotions. Repeat after me, "The Lakers SUCK!"

    fshmstr, aka le PIG!


Please share your opinion!

Unexpected Light

Unexpected Light
Selected Poems and Love Poems 1998-2008 ON SALE NOW!