The Gentle Process of Letting Go

Floating on the surface of poorly done leftovers

down inside a toilet above the septic pipes

there it sat comfortably among the yellow waters

a little brownish blob of captivating flies

To defecate he thought it was to decompress

he hardly ever needed to stay in there for long

but solid as a rock it came to suppress

his ass' fartly song

He moaned and blushed and pushed with steel determination

to lead his constipation to total termination

Suddenly wishful thinking began to form a mass

As echos in the room produced uncanny gas

Coming from somewhere between the poor man's hairy ass

He startled jumped and loosened his body's bottom hole

and saw his makings down there, looking them as a whole

The turd stared back at him and there he had a hunch

Granting him specious information about the latest lunch

Corn and tomato colored with shades of fresh cut spinach

Should he consider eating for next time a packet full of peanuts?

He got up, cheered a bit and then he started flush

Hitting the shite he had delivered, holding a toilet brush

Thus having executed complete evacuation.

Now savors of a feeling of utter relaxation.

* * *

Strange Fruit of Paradise (Part Five)

The sun was already up, having emerged from between the distant sand dunes in the east. The girl watched Ovolon as he was packing their things to go. The look of him; crouching, carefully stuffing everything inside his backpack, with messy curly hair and an unshaven chin, reminded her of monkeys eating lice from each other's backs.

“Ahem, so where to now?” she asked in a faked serious tone and tried to hide a giggle as Ovolon turned his head and looked at her with confusion.

“I thought you knew!”

“Nope. No idea what to do now. All I knew was that we should hurry get inside. I don't even remember why. Maybe it was just a hunch.” she said as she strolled around him, with her hands behind her back and her head looking up the sky.

Strange Fruit of Paradise (Part Four)

It was early in the morning and the moisture in the air was still thick bringing drifting odors into Ovolon's nostrils. He stoop up from the rock he was sitting and took a stroll around the area, stopping casually to examine his surroundings. Downhill he could see the Great Path passing between the hillsides which formed it, making it bend like a snake heading towards the stony mountain gorge which led away from the familiar meadow. He didn't know what was beyond it. He wanted to go, wanted to know, but he had always postponed this. Fear of the unknown maybe.

Prophecy

Mushrooms and colorful pillows

fry my brain like and egg

for i always had one leg

since my good perspective willows

The predictions of my voodoo 

glimer my totemic mask

sometimes strangers come to ask

what the serpents of Candu do

* * *