Ode to Jen on moving to Italy
Now the foreigners poo in a hole in the ground.
There's two steps for your feet and you squat like a hound,
and before you've the knack and have mastered the matter
there's danger of shoe-, trews- and underwear-spatter.
Or the strain in your haunches may lead to your arse
ending squelched down in all that you've struggle to pass.
But should balance be lost, say, while dreaming of passion,
you may find you shit in a spirograph fashion.
And with proper dilation and cheeks spread asunder,
Logs won't touch the sides as you rumble like thunder.