Learning when/how to close seat then... flush... the toilet with good frisson!

(alternately titled long windedly

using lower case letters:

no matter tidily bowled over based

upon real events, perhaps subject devoid

of literary merit and/or taste

no embarrassment, cuz

I got nothing to cover

despite precious time going to waste).

Analogous to constipation,

constitutes full term pregnancy,

perhaps umpteenth or first,

which former offal bodily function I durst

mention, said subject doth stink,

yet... exercising bowel

applicative, constrictive, effective,

exhaustive, gesticulative, instinctive,

massive, oppressive, qualitative,

quantitative, significative and unitive

(beg to differ if ye think me perverse)

both scenarios prone to stress and strain,

difficulties can arise evacuating bowels

gluteus maximus muscles severely pursed,

radiating sharp stabbing sensations

behind junk in trunk quarters felt

until bulging temple veins ready to burst,

where piles of hemorrhoids

foul rectum tortured and accursed

necessitating Judas Priest well versed

to issue last rites while

appropriate official dull livers worst

news to missus, whose

inconsolable sympathies nursed,

nevertheless bit torrent of sorrow

honor alone time with grateful dead

subsequently finds medical personnel disbursed,

privately newly minted widow mourning

tears for fears immersed

bemoaning sudden permanent absence

gone fore e'er foremost farter figure first

instance obliterated, when posterior

uproariously (actually not funny)

inflicted hemorrhage emergency,

die hard ludicrous poet (me) experienced

all expense chauffeured ride in hearst

aforementioned purportedly roughly comparable,

courtesy hearsay, when

hypothetical woman with child,

(here, I metaphorically paraphrase)

as maven ready to take aim giving birth

(nine months after satiating

hankering call of the wild

buzzfeeding miracle worker whipped thirst,

and temporarily appeased

inherent maternal yearning

to beget offspring, then... off to races

sprinting at greased lightning speed

amazingly enough slightly protruded womb,

(among other fledgling

and/or practiced moms avid runners

all touted as winners relay race crossing

finish line simultaneously

comprising distance measuring more'n verst.