Absofuckinglutely

The runs

Where the heck’s my flora,

yes, my flora,

my gutsy frigging flora.

One day I lost it,

my God, my Flora,

my nice intestinal

freaking flora.

It was apocalyptic, the flora,

the flora-losing day; a trauma;

infection gone, gone foreign fauna,

but also my useful flora.

And so no more shine, no aura,

no even good oral flora,

all irrecoverable, all vanished:

a world war two menorah.

Oh, Dora,

yeah, the Explorer,

will you please help me get

or at least recover

my friggingfuckingflora?