What seems to flow below,
Sometimes seem to stagnate above,
Where frankly sometimes,
We are full of it,
And nothing can get out.
That we need a brain fart
To get things flowing onto paper.
But please do not use
One ply TP tissue,
That is biodegradable.
You awake up with thoughts,
In the middle of the night,
Needing to go
From two different directions.
One where nature calls
With its noxious nose after gases.
While writer’s block
Gets diarrhea with creative cerebral flows
That needs the quill of the morning,
Upon staining power paper penetration.
Yes, it does seem that when,
You get cerebral constipation,
You do not have to sit on the throne
In having to take a big dump.
But as soon as Ex-Lax mental flows begin,
It brings about this cerebral diarrhea
That seems to need a water closet.
So you unplug the computer
To rush to your toilet verse,
But hear the ding ding ding
Of a dead battery.
Have you ever had writers diarrhea on TP?
Why as it unwinds, it lands on the floor
That soon you are swimming in TP.
But the fun is, to roll it up backwards
Then slowly transpose it onto your computer.
Just pray a toilet flushes and does not overflow.
Otherwise all your words are glued together,
Forever and forevermore.
So what is the plot of this constipation poem?
Keep a notebook and pen near the bathroom,
Or make sure you keep your computer charged.
Just be careful it does not drop into the toilet.
You may get the shock of your life.
David Lester Young (Franklin Doppelganger) 07/01/12 ©