Gotta Potty
Gotta Potty
By Arley Steinhour 042115
An article about 'Gender neutral' Rest-rooms,
on College compasses, prompted this comment:
The door was no longer upon the wall,
It had been ripped, from the metal stall,
I really needed to poop, Nature call,
But the stools were covered, wall to wall
Seated quite firmly, in that public place,
Were the female sex, of human race,
With a wad of paper, giving chase,
To every drip, as Red filled my face.
They didn't care, I might raise a stink,
They flicked the head, off toward the sink,
I looked at them, and gave them a wink,
To do what I needed, would land me in clink.
At last, one rose, from the seated position,
I got there as fast as I could, in this condition,
The smell that arose, quickly created attrition,
I came back to normal, completing my mission.
My story is over, my tail is complete,
I feel so much better, down to my feet,
The sign on the door, is down to defeat,
With a whiff of something, 'worse than feet.'
AMEN
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