I get there fast, go rushing in
The seat is warm beneath my skin
No cold plastic to bite my flesh
Just the previous user’s hot caress
An embrace upon my tensing cheeks
Above the porcelain decorated by streaks
Crusted and hard, engraved, stuck fast
Left by a long line of shitters, of which I’m last
Someone surely will follow me
Perhaps they’ll simply need to pee
In the pan, I hope they’ll aim
But will they treat it like a game
Will they sprinkle where I sit
Or will the floor be all they hit
Adding to the puddles left to stain
The tiled floor till no whites remain
It’s already yellow from years of piss
From all the men who always miss
From the stall beside I hear the groans
Those disgusting painful frightening moans
Of someone giving birth to waste
With smell so thick it becomes a taste
And taste so strong it makes me choke
My eyes stream as I cough and boak
What have they eaten, those poor dogs
That makes their shit like whole hedgehogs
That burn and cut and render flesh
And surely adds blood to the awful mess
The mess that stains and stinks and stays forever
In this place I use but never
Unless I really have to go
And even then I’m thinking no
No
No
No
Please God No
Let it be clean, have the cleaners do their job
Don’t make me sit and shit and sob
Don’t make me cry as I shit out
Or gnash my teeth and scream and shout
And moan and groan and tear my face
And leave my dignity in this public place.
If you like my weird ass poetry, you might want to seriously ask yourself what’s wrong with you. But hey, read my book Noun of Noun and Adjective, it has poems (well, songs) in it, too. Link is in the side bar.