The Boy Who Couldn’t Stop Pooing

 

Once there was a little boy

Who had a malady

He was taken to the doctors

And the doctor said, ‘I see

 

You clearly have a problem here

And without a cure you’ll ruin

Your trousers and your furniture

As you clearly can’t stop pooing.’

 

Paul’s parents thanked the doctor

For his acute prognosis

(of course they’d had an inkling

As they both had noses.)

 

And though it might be comforting

To give a name to issues

A cure was needed desperately

They were running low on tissues

 

‘Suppositories!’ the doctor cried

But they were a no-go

They couldn’t get the hefty pills

Past the strong and steady flow

 

‘Well that’s it,’ the doctor shrugged

‘I’m afraid the boys a ‘goner.’

But Pauls father, who was practical

Replied, ‘Let’s try a plumber.’

 

They went to Humphry Jefferson

The greatest plumber in the land

Explained poor Pauls pooing woes

And asked him for a helping hand

 

Humphry looked in wonder

As he had never seen

A boy who leaked more effluence

Than an old latrine

 

‘Look Humphrey,’ Cried Pauls father,

‘we are in a pickle,

I can deal with a bit of poo

But this is more than just a trickle

 

I’d describe it as a torrent

This ailment of Paul’s

Is less a diarrhoea drizzle

And more Niagara falls!’

Humphery looked, he, ‘ummed,’ he, ‘ahhed.’

And ventured with a shrug

‘If this lad were a leaky bog

I might suggest a plug.’

 

‘Genius!’ Paul’s father cried,

‘What a grand idea.’

So Humphry got to work on building

A plug for poor Paul’s rear

 

And while a plugs a simple thing

With no moving parts

To craft a bespoke bum-hole-bung

Is a rather tricky art

 

One needs the right material

Gold is too decorous

Ivory’s illegal

Cork is far too porous

 

Wood is prone to splintering

Fur is hard to clean

Wax will never hold its shape

Nor will plasticine

 

Humphry wracked his mighty brain

‘What would still the spewing bum?

Something pliable yet sturdy…

Eureka! Chewing gum!’

 

With the answer there in front of them

There was no time to waste

Any flavour gum would do

Bums have no sense of taste

 

Humphry chewed his Juicy Fruity

And while he masticated

Eyed up Pauls exploding buttocks

And shrewdly calculated

 

The angle and trajectory

The stillness of the air

To ensure the bubble gum

Would hit Pauls derriere

 

He spat, he scored

He hit his goal!

The bubble gum

Clean plugged the hole

 

 

And finally a silence fell

To everyone’s relief

But the pooing pause, unfortunately

Was only to be brief

 

Let us take a little break

To give a voice to Paul

Who up until this moment

Has said nothing much at all

 

‘Yes I am a pooing monster

That much no one is debating

But it’s not against my will at all

I just love defecating

 

And I will poo and poo and poo

Until I’m all pooed out

As pooing is the only thing

I really care about.’

 

And so, true to his pooing word

Paul gave another squeeze

And something pink and bubbly

Appeared between his knees

 

Humphry’s bubble gum grand plan

Had a fatal flaw

If you fill bubble gum with gas

Bubble gum grows more

 

So it did and young Paul floated

Up into the sky

And people gazed in wonder

As the pink blob floated by

 

It hung in the Earth’s atmosphere

Expanding through the years

And people cast their worried glances

Voiced their strong ideas

 

And then one day to great relief

The monstrous thing, it burst

Scattering poo from pole to pole

Raining down upon the Earth

 

Horrific as the thought may be,

A shower of excrement

Was actually a wonderous thing

A gift from heaven sent

 

 

You see Paul, with his pooing love,

Might be construed as manic

However, with his dietary plans,

He was strictly organic

 

So far from being negative

This hailstorm of poo

Was nothing short of positive

And from the dung, plants grew

 

Not only plants but also trees

And jungles thrived and flourished

Thanks to his pesticide-free meals

The eco-system was well nourished

 

Who’d have thought a poo fixation

Could have been so positive?

Not I. Here’s my contention

We should all live and let live

 

If a young lad who loved pooing

Made the world a better place

Then doing more of what you love

Could benefit the human race

 

Perhaps you like to knit big scarfs

Or write romantic tales

Maybe you’re a whizz with cars

Or have a love for snails

 

So if you have a passion or

Something you love to do

Do it and think of Paul who

Save the world with all his poo.