TOILET PAPER HORROR

A nice, filthy whiskey shit.

Such a relief to get it out.

Probably a 3-wiper, clean as a whistle.

Bunch up toilet paper.

Wipe—

Oh no.

Fuck.

My finger pushed through

and swiped my asshole

shit juice still on it.

Wipe it clean.

Scrub and scrape

Scrape and scrub

Sniff it.

You can hardly smell it.

But you know that after 30 minutes

The shit stink will be back.

Even if you put cologne on it.

MORNING WOOD

My morning wood always wakes up before me.

A warm rod on my underbelly.

Sometimes nuzzled in my belly button.

Or maybe it’s pointed to my hip

            (always the right hip, it feels weird on the left)

            if I’m on my stomach.

Sometimes it peeks out of my boxers.

It makes my morning piss a pain in the ass

            (so to speak)

But I have learned that if I . . .

            . . . lean my head against the wall

            . . . grip the underside of my penis with my fingers on the bottom

            . . . and gently pull back

A slightly burning stream of urine

hits exactly the target.

I’m happy if I can cover the surface of the toilet water with bubbles

And when I flush, it bunches up and lifts in the center.

Sometimes my morning wood lasts a long time.

I have to wear my shirt over it to hide it.

It’s annoying, but I love my morning wood.

It’s proof that I am alive.

IT CREEPS

They say that wetness enhances smell

which is why you sense so much more when it rains.

It’s also why shower farts are so heinous.

You let out your butt trumpet

and it echoes satisfyingly.

But then it creeps

up your body

to your nose.

And gags you.