The poet rises from the toilet with a duck in his head and looks right

BOTTOM

I love you for your bottom,
That sits upon the chair,
So smooth and rich and creamy,
And quite devoid of hair.

I love you for your bottom,
That wobbles when you walk,
So firm and thick and fruity, like
An uncooked piece of pork.

I love you for your bottom,
That swivels as you rumba.
The first time that I saw it,
I had to have your number.

I wish I were a toilet duck,
That's hidden in the loo,
So I could watch your bottom
As it strains at every poo.

I wish I were a toilet,
All wet and full of shit,
So if your noble bottom chanced
To squat a while in toilet stance
It would not e'er escape my glance
Oh what I'd give for such a chance
I'd cut my head off with a lance
Be carted off in an ambulance
Become a citizen of France
So much your bottom does entrance
Me, Oh
The roundness
And the whiteness
The softness
And the niceness,
An ornament
A masterpiece
An objet d'art
A golden fleece
I try to live my life in peace,
But am struck dumb
By the beauty, that
You call your bum.

The poet rises from the toilet with a duck in his head and looks left

Poem Study Notes:

More viz-inspired toilet humour, written in around 1998.

This is intended as a performance poem. So please do feel free to perform it in comedy clubs, at poetry slams or in front of your parents.

Probably not in school though. If your teacher has asked you to find a comic performance poem to bring to your English class, maybe try The Bogey On My Keyboard, which has previously been used in schools without triggering disciplinary action.

Maybe this poem could be worked into a comic anecdote ... this could be the poem you sent to some girl you had your beady eye on. You could pretend that you were surprised that she didn't like it. Might get a laugh...

The idea is that you start off quietly and gradually work yourself into a fervour. Ideally, you should be sweating by the time you reach the last line.