By renouned poohet T. O. Ilet
The Naming of Craps is a difficult matter,
It isn’t just one of your toilety games;
You may think at first I’m as mad as a Crapper
When I tell you, a Crap must have THREE DIFFERENT NAMES.
First of all, there’s the name that the family use daily,
Such as PooPoo, Plop-Plop, Shitty or Turd,
Such as Shite or Excrement, Dump, or Number Two–
All of them sensible everyday names.
There are fancier names if you think they sound sweeter,
Some for the gentlemen, some for the dames:
Such as Feces, Excrement, Stool, Feculence–
But all of them sensible everyday names.
But I tell you, a Crap needs a name that’s particular,
A name that’s peculiar, and more dignified,
Else how can he keep up his crimp end perpendicular,
Or spread out his liquids, or cherish his pride?
Of names of this kind, I can give you a quorum,
Such as Excreta, Ejecta, or Excrement,
Such as Evacuation, or else Jellydrop-drop-
Names that never belong to more than one crap.
But above and beyond there’s still one name left over,
And that is the name that you never will guess;
The name that no human research can discover–
But THE CRAP HIMSELF KNOWS, and will never confess.
When you notice a crap in profound putrification,
The reason, I tell you, is always the same:
His mind is engaged in a rapt contemplation
Of the thought, of the thought, of the thought of his name:
His ineffable effable
Deeply dripping singular Name.