More mounds are gonna drop relentlessly—
greasy state—better tread carefully!
Staining the wood of the floor, messily.
It now is marred; clean it may never be.

Danger, danger! Dogshit. Kick it and it will smear.

Dropped from the ass pit—out comes more and more.
Spilled, a leak of piss; you’re screaming and sore.
Someone’s gotta handle the icky chore
of cleaning doggie dreck off of the floor.

Danger, danger! Dogshit. Away it must be cleared.

The stench of the dog mess: a turdy smell;
it’s not somethin’ you’d want up in your nose well.
Look at this awful mutt and start to yell.
Then spackle the crack where it lib’rally fell.

Staying, staying dogshit. Ceasin’ doody from rear.

Now the dog can’t take an icky wicked dump,
so you’ll have to get a bowel pump.
Spackled crack sears—first there’s a small clump,
but then there’s a river; to your gun you jump.

Wasted, wasted dog…fixed. Keepin’ the parquet sere.