/lit/ - Literature

Why is there NEVER pooping in literature?
Every other aspect of human life is explored, even the more animal things can be represented, food, eating, sex, exhaustian, death, but never pooping and peeing. Is this because it's our true shame, is it the one thing we can see no beauty in, is this why Adam and Eve covered their hooha's? There was never a greek god who pood, they sweat, they came, they bled, they spat, but they never pood. How could we reconcile this with our imagined ideals of perfected human life, take the Catholic tradition, it's an important point that our animal nature is not simply lesser, and it's not evil. They believe in heaven your material body is perfected, but would you then still have a stinky brown anus? It's seems an obsolutely essential part of the body's symmetry, what we consume must be expelled, and yet it remains unmentioned in every tradition. Imagine the great men you admire, and dare I say, the beautiful women you desire taking slimy brown poo's.
The only format you can possibly find it is in crude humour, and perhaps a whole branch of humour is just the mocking of mankinds greatest shame, that they poo. What do you make of this?