Heinous Is Your Anus

Heinous is your anus.
The garbled moan of your gastrointestinal nightmare.
Shards of toilet paper clinging to the edges of your dung hole,
That mysterious porthole enshrouded by a gate of hair.
We detest you as you pass wind.
The deadly air surrounds you with raucous fumes
Which could kill an elephant.
Heinous is your anus.


Heinous is your anus.
Visited by thousands of noses and eager tongues.
Stretched out, with broken blood vessels, and stained skin.
It gapes open for all to enter like the gates of hell.
Diarrhea flows out like your empty words.
Nothing has any meaning.
Not when your anus begins to itch and burn.
Heinous is your anus.


Heinous is your anus.
All are in mourning from the day you stuck your head inside.
Forever you are lost as you venture into your cavernous posterior.
We came to you with an enema,
but the foul odor drove us away.
Heinous is your anus.