My dream come true over at Zigzackly’s page. A fortnight of write-all-you-want, bad, bad poetry. Jump in and get churning!
Now the Boy can’t turn to me and say (all perplexed and lines furrowing his brow), “But you’re such a positive person! How come your writing is so morbid?”
So bye-bye morbid & hello downright groanworthy! 
*******
She picked at her scabs, all pickety pickety,
Started on the boogers next,
Do you really want to know what went lickety lickety
In this huge honking grossfest?
Splashing into snot, all splashity splashity,
Soaking up yellow-green scum,
There’s more fun around the corner, quite sickety sickety
Coming out of a baby’s bum.
And if we’re quite done, all pukity pukity,
We’ll traipse off to use some soap,
Are we any cleaner on this blogity blogity,
The answer is a resounding nope!
*******
Ahhh. Such a post-crap feeling, this.
I’ll be back, goopsters! You can’t keep a bad poet down for long.
Vox populi