your anus

I am your anus,
a marvelous O,
and frankly I am
quite jealous of the
attention paid to
that pompous organ
THE BRAIN.

It thinks and thinks but
it never feels a
GODDAMN THING
that isn't abstract
and felt more truly,
more feelingly by
another organ.

For instance, when I
must strain to rid you
of insolent brown
that's hard and stubborn,
the brain might note my
exertion, even
feel sympathetic,
but never does a
GODDAMN THING ABOUT IT,
just THINKS about it,
THAT DO-NOTHING FUCK.

If only it could
contribute muscle
and clench in tandem:
a tug-of-war team,
an all-for-one poo!
Then maybe I could
like the guy.
But it's got all the
muscle of a cuticle.
Stupid turd.


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