On My Hemorrhoidectomy

by Nancy Gold
(Cambridge, MA, USA)

For long years my ‘rhoids
Got along with my tush,
‘Til this hapless year
When shove came to push.

You normally don’t give
Much thought to your bum,
Until the day when
You just want it numb.

My surgeon, that brute,
Who trimmed my poor culo,
Was less Dalai Lama
And more Claus von Bulow.

My can, my poor buns
They now feel like heck to me,
‘Cause I went and had
That damned hemorrhoidectomy.

Who knew that a fart
Could be something so heinous,
Since it’s only some gas
Trying to pass through my anus?

Well what then, you ask,
Of the old Number 2?
Excruciating, I say,
For it to slide through.

I hate y’all to think
That I’ve gotten so whiny,
But such is the sad state
Of my tormented heinie.

My arse, my sad keister
It’s now such a wreck to me,
‘Cause I went and had
That damned hemorrhoidectomy.


A last rhyme appended at 4 in the morning:
For all of you folks, let it serve as a warning.
Post surgical pain meds can bind up your bowel.
Take laxatives, not hot peppers, and then you won’t howl.

Comments for On My Hemorrhoidectomy

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May 31, 2015
by: Vernon Waring

Your poem is hilarious
It made me cheer and jump
You made a clever statement
About your bloody rump!

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