Heavy Crap, Outhouse, Ignoble Right Up To The End

Heavy Crap, Outhouse, Ignoble Right Up To The End

A Poem by wuliheron

People I know and the places I end up.


Heavy Crap

Obligingly the Perfect Crap would always,

Leave everybody's butts alone!

A lot of crap is an Awful Mess,

That never Cleans up that easily.

Heavier crap means varied Things,

Tossing out Stinkier Crap, for Fresh,

Around here we always toss it uphill,

The smell's just worse the higher you go,

Collective sighs of relief from those down below!


Without taking a single step outdoors,

You already know that loathsome smell;

Without a glance by the light of the moon,

You already know, the texture of that crap.

The more messy really crappy experiences,

The less we believe, we know about crap!

Until the urge, becomes overpowering;

Streaking past, holding their noses,

The mad dash for the outhouse!

Where everything always works out on in the end.

Gullible Fools

If we could distill down all the bullshit,

Then people would profit a hundredfold;

Nonetheless gullible fools would remain.

If artifice and profit could be eradicated,

Then a lot of unnecessary waste, might be eliminated!

But, half-assed remedies merely treat the symptoms!

Being inadequate used by themselves.

The gullible require personal remedies:

Embrace your personal sense of humor;

Embracing your own ignorant laughter!

Ignoble Right Up to the End!

We enter and leave this world covered in crap,

And, everyone I know is always full of crap,

Except the dead, who no longer give a crap!

Still others hold onto their crap for dear life,

To the point where taking a s**t becomes an abstraction!

Yet those who partake of a modest diet,

Need not fear pains in the a*s that often;

Nor wear protective garments all the time,

Hemorrhoids finding no places to poke out!

People can stop scratching nearly as often,

Stop always searching for nearby toilets,

Worrying about their own petty crap,

Still ignoble right up to the end!

© 2019 wuliheron

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Added on December 7, 2018
Last Updated on September 17, 2019



I'm a brain damaged, mentally deranged, hippie dippy raised on Gilligan's Island and Green Acres, but I'm never going back there again! Currently, I'm 11 years into writing a book on Collective Ignora.. more..