Note: This is a continuation of ‘Sweaty Crack – A Poem‘
I keep jogging along
An old dusty track,
When I remember
My faithful little knapsack.
I swing it off my shoulders
Inside is an ice-pack –
One of those small squidgy ones,
Maybe I could use that!
I pry my cheeks wide open
Feel the cool air in my crack,
But then a sweaty fart escapes
Now, dignity I lack!
I realise that this will not do,
Maybe I should find a stream.
Surely all that rushing water
Will make my crack squeaky clean?
I work my way to a river
Through bushes, brambles and flowers.
So much hard work…then it hits me,
Maybe I should just go home and shower.