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Stink Finger

14 Mar
half-past midnight, if the oxygen saturation
sustains life ten more hours

better go
check this frigid winter night

walk
the snow crunches, shiver
through the storm door of the toasty
assisted-living condo

ears for the ragged
rasping phlegm of the bed jockey

the sterile room, the retching stench of
bowel from a hot leaking packed adult diaper

began to noodle the ode of poo
is it potty mouth poesy
excrement the process of manufacture

the brunt of humor since
bears do do do in the woods here a
person can't squat

so it falls too
the runny detail

the joke flops into
anger and impatience wiping wiping
just to pour forth like a chocolate
fondue

half a thousand sheets to the elbows
from the comfortable
who tubed more into waiting
nitrile glove hands.

not a little thanks for
the stink-finger ministration

buttocks are
messy from certain cracks
in this short lifespan 



 
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Posted by on March 14, 2022 in Poetry

 

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