Here’s to you on your day,
Where eyes they did go roaming,
Inside your person and up your rump,
And your mucosa they were homing.
In an open gown they laid you out,
And raised your leg and began their route,
And there on a gurney, as they are able,
Inserted a camera and three foot cable.
But glamour was not their task at hand,
As they hunted for bogies with every cram.
To take aim at intruders and thereby snipe,
The nastiness found in their daguerreotype.
But hopefully they found you nice and pink,
In the area that hath caused quite a stink.
And may your lining be good in all its turns,
And your memory be lost of any squirms.
For sedated you have been and rightfully so,
When doctors have spelunked your po-po.
Awakening now, and whether proper to sit,
You’ll ponder food… and the need to shit.
For intestines that have laid empty so long,
Introducing food thereto would seem so wrong.
Yet the grumbling in your belly will lead you to eat,
And soon enough you will have forgotten your seat.
Until a flashback perhaps, of your time in that room,
When you may have recalled that feeling of doom,
As they prepped your hindquarters for a nice little looky,
And they joked at your expense at your exposed little pookie.
But seeing your innards is a serious caper,
Lest we forget the millions spent on toilet paper.
Welcome back my dear friend,
And your rump violated.
For unspeakable things done,
And the jokes they’ve created.
I trust you are well and recovering with whim,
And the shape of your bowels are now proper and prim.
Have confidence in your physician and the job he has done,
For the great voyages he’s taken deep down in your bum.
Take comfort in knowing he’s done the right thing,
But do query the good doctor about his missing wedding ring.
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