It's a miracle
I've not got haemorrhoids,
considering how often I sit
around with a telescope
up my *ss.
What motivated this?
Why on earth did I do that?
I ask myself, probing,
inspecting, dissecting.
A little contemplation, some degree
of self-analysis can, of course,
be useful, but to look up your
*ssh*l* with a telescope is
as ridiculous as peering
through a microscope
at stars.
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