



Toilets

by T.S. Eliot



Let us go then, to the john,

Where the toilet seat waits to be sat upon

Like a lover's lap perched upon ceramic;

Let us go, through doors that do not always lock,

Which means you ought to knock

Lest opening one reveal a soul within

Who'll shout, "Stay out! Did you not see my shin,

Framed within the gap twixt floor and stall?"

No, I did not see that at all.

That is not what I saw, at all.



To the stall the people come to go,

Reading an obscene graffito.



We have lingered in the chamber labeled "Men"

Till attendants proffer aftershave and mints

As we lather up our hands with soap, and rinse. Skinny Domicile

by Emily Dickinson



I have a skinny Domicile

Its Door is very narrow.

'Twill keepI hopethe Reaper out

His Scytheand Bonesand Marrow.



Since Death is not a portly Chap,

The Entrance must be thin

Sowhen my Final Moment comes

He cannot wriggle in.



That's why I don't go out that much

I can't fit through that Portal.

How dumbto waste my Social Life

On Plans to beimmortal I Will Alarm Islamic Owls

by William Carlos Williams



I will be alarming

the Islamic owls

that are in

the barn



and which

you warned me

are very jittery

and susceptible to loud noises



Forgive me

they see so well in the dark

so feathery

and so dedicated to Allah

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