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Scoop Her Pooper
by Michael R. Burch
Our precious Poochie pooped an Amethyst
she’d purloined from my lovely Lady’s tray
of priceless baubles. Come, without delay,
to see this Wonder—clasped in a steaming fist
of stewing dung! A dinosaur might say,
sard-onyx’lly, that many a Lady may
wear Diamonds gleaming at her heaving breast
that once were stranger Gemstones—poop impressed,
mere shit he’d shat, ensconced on a ferny throne,
that stewed awhile and only shone when done.
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