This is not disgusting;
you have no right to criticize me for
writing a perverse, sensationalist poem,
because the dropping of deuces
is a natural thing that we all must do.

Especially Brody.

If I was to go on to talk about eating the said dropped deuce,
or interacting with the feces in other such unecessary fashion,
--which I very well may--
then you can criticize me
if you so choose,
but until then,
keep your mouth
and your ass
shut.

Brody was sitting upon a toilet
while dropping this deuce,
as is only prudent to do.
Then things
departed from
the natural progression of things:
The toilet spoke,
commenting on
the unknown data format
of Brody's ass.

Brody told that toilet
to shut up and eat his shit.

The toilet disobeyed!
Speaking again to say, "Ahh! you got a peanut in my eye!"
Brody apologized,
offering the toilet a twizzler as consolation,
but the toilet was unforgiving!
It bit his cock!
My, what indignance!

Brody is not the only one who uses toilets,
we all do,
and we must learn to be coexistent with
or independent of
these insubordinate household fixtures.