Dirty Story: rupophobia*
He had a savage fear of dirt—
So savage that it sometimes hurt.
He stayed inside, did not go out.
At any fleck of dirt he’d shout.
And then of course he finally died—
And in that box he stayed inside.
But coffins rot—then earth appears.
So he’ll become the dirt he fears.
*2nd time I've used this word ... oh, well: different poem, though!