The Bailout Bun
At Occupy Wall Street for day number two,the swell of crowds of people is quite a view. As the day goes on my tummy begins to grumble, I need some food and I need it on the double. So over to the line of food thats free, praying that it tastes better than the bark of the tree. Finally the food is piled on my plate oh so high, I pray it doesn’t soon come streaming down my thigh. For beans and rice are a vegetarian treat, yet all I want is a tasty piece of meat. Thats what keeps the body strong, I fear that shortly my colon will know that somethings wrong! Like clockwork my stomach feels a sudden ache, deploying a fart that could be confused for NY’s second earth quake. Instantly I clench the checks on my rump super tight, my prime affirmation 'I will win this doodie fight!' I penguin walk for what seems like an hour, sweat pouring down my legs; man do i need a shower! I’m on this journey that never ends, if only I thought ahead and wore some depends. Finally my heart sinks as I come to the honest truth, there is no place to poop not even an old telephone booth. Seconds remain until I will be covered in a brown burst, and the 99% would soon be seeing a first. For a man covered in poopie is not a common view, unless you pass a crazy homless guy playing with his poo. climbing atop a ledge I look for a last minute place of relief, suddenly I see a Fat Cat and his crony passing by underneath. Quickly I drop my drawers as I can’t miss this chance, all around me the protestors sensing whats going on begin to dance. Knees are bent, cheeks are spread I’m about to let it fly, I time it perfectly as the 1%'er is about to walk by. I let loose a force with the power of a thousand suns, and cover that Bankster from his head to his soggy buns. He just stands there in shock with a face full of fear, as all the protestors start to come near. They laugh, point and giggle realizing what I'd just done, 'I love this man' they shout, 'with the bailout bun!'