Her brand-new bathroom’s
feng shui is perfect:
the floor-to-ceiling mirror
fogs up immediately.

Not to sound callous, but
what I remember most is
how large & soft her guest
towels were.

The old guy in the rest stop’s
ultra-modern men’s room takes
a long time zipping up,
stands there looking all over
for something to push.

The graffito might just
as well have read,
“Everybody Meditates.”

I sat on the crapper eating a sandwich.
Hey, it happens.

In the men’s room at the public library
someone reeking of body odor
moaned & howled with abandon
in the only stall.
I pissed as quietly as I could.

Why would anyone name a kid “John”?
He’ll get shat on, his girlfriend will write
to tell him she’s found someone else,
he’ll end up paying
for anonymous sex.

Across from the toilet
in a spider web near the floor
a trapped millipede coils, uncoils.

Three million households in New York City
and every one has an intermittent stream
flowing through it.

At the back-to-nature jamboree
hundreds of kids independently decided
to go squat in the creek
when they had to potty.

If I ever install a composting toilet,
I’ll have to get one of those
New Age desktop fountains with
the little pebbles in it.

The old privy.
A turd falls in.
No sound of water.