"Morning Constitutional"
Early yesterday,
I sat in a grey tiled room
quietly twisting
as an accordion might be
deftly pinched and stretched
by the calloused hands of wierd al yankovic
and perhaps not altogether by chance
I thought of you.
Later, when the time came
I, softly pressing my foot
onto the chrome handle,
watched the water surge and swell
and with it also grew within my chest
the horror and disbelief
of a clogged industrial toilet
at school.
~Shit House Poet (SHP)
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