Colonoscopy - Poem by Bob Gibson
I want to see you tomorrow, said the Doctor on the phone
And bring your wife along, because you won't be driving home!
A deep depression came over me, memories of the past
I was going to get reamed again! i knew it wouldn't last
Nothing to eat or drink, have i made that clear!
I want your passage's squeeky clean, i might even do a smear
I want you sideways on the bed, looking at the screen
You can watch it on the tv, or shut your eyes and dream
I know you seen the video! and pain relief I'll give
But i might be there for a while, cos your bum is like a sieve!
Those polyps that i extruded, i may have gone to far
I also removed your testicles! thats them in the jar!
A look of horror came on my face, he said I'm having you on
I'm a profesional surgeon! , don't worry about it son! !
I didn't believe a word he said, because he was not sincere!
Then he shoved a drain pipe up, it was then i shed a tear!
I saw my bum's inside, there upon the screen
I'd drunk four litres of horrible stuff inside i was pristine
Eventually he said enough! I've had my fun today
I'll extract my tubes quite swiftly, then you can be on your way
My wife was working that day and i was on my bike
I left it in the carpark and begun to hike
That seat would have been the death of me, i broke out in a sweat
The first car was the surgeons! he said come on lad, in yer get!
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