Texture Conjecture

They stumble out the gates, sometimes in small packs.

They explode through the portal like a doubled ended axe.

They rush and spray and splatter, yet their mark, it will not stay.

Because I upped the water pressure, and in one flush, they’ll go away.

Because whichever race, creed, or gender we are, poop’s all the same color coming out of our rump.