A poem about pooping

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An outback house
I’m trying to write a poem about this zoom meeting class I am in

I don’t know where to take it or how deep to go

Could I go into the part of my boredom, that I would actually rather be pooping right now?

Yes, I could express the sweet release edging at my bowels.

I long to sit on that so-called throne, my legs elevated on my new poop stool

And then… the release

Or maybe we could go another route

About how much of a time waste this is to me

How I actually don’t give a shit, I really just want to shit.

I like the first one, lets keep it light now

Later on, I get to push out heavy freeing blocks of food

*wink

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