Keeping An Eye On Piles Poem by Herbert Nehrlich

Bent forward in classic kyphosis
as his double chin clearly showed ptosis.
He was suffering from
a bad vein in his bum
it had burst into phagocytosis.

So the doc checked him over with care.
Under halogen light's amber glare.
Found an excess of bile
and a fourteen inch pile
and a fungus all over his hair.

So the fellow left after he paid.
Still bent over, creating some shade.
Asked his spouse then, pray tell
are you not very well
and she gave him some lemonade.

But he never quite straightened his spine,
hung his head in the steepest incline,
nearly touching the tiles
he was watching his piles
ears and eyes being nearly supine.

In the end she found out it was Doc,
head pysician in Little Rock,
who had said keep a watch
on the back of your crotch
day and night and around the clock.

Forty weeks went and things had grown
he was still bending over and prone.
But the size of his pile
had acquired in style
the appearance of rugged brimstone.

As it grew it was pulling and dragging
as if flaunting its beauty and bragging
and it did in the end
help the fellow unbend
and the wife stopped her whining and nagging.