to watch your shit go down
all that black & brown
sometimes white surround
ed by water & paper
and, i hope, your
relief, hear
the flush--o that sound!--
wash your hands, now, wash
your hands, now,
toilet symphony in your ears, now,
pollock shitphony in your eyes, now,
disappears now
disappears now
reappears some
time, you
pray.
i will try to write 100 poems in 100 days. even if they're all chamber potty. then i'll write one when i feel like it.
Saturday, March 27, 2010
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- rattlers on the lost dogwash trail in
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- in Just-
- the class played this family feud-like vocabulary
- i tried to redecorate the table
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- her black radio fell
- in honor of health
- target (tar-ZHAY) on a friday
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- chicago broke 60 degrees today
- i heard my health & benefits
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