Poetry

CWG3


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3 december 2011

Too Much

The man walked casually down the street, tie around his
neck, briefcase in hand
Off for another day at the office, another day, no clue of
what was to come
Suddenly a sharp abdominal pain, too many feces ripping out
of intestines
Exploding torso shit cannon, spurting forth what should've
emptied from his bum






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