Poem # 42 A Scatological poem

A Scatological poem

We filled our heads with knowledge
in the crowded room
delighted that the school was empty of
high school students.

The empty buildings were still littered
with the remains of food,
and scarred with obscene graffiti....
what the Principal did with dogs.

It was desolate outside our seminar room.

Time passed
and my stomach contracted with a natural urge.
"Where is the nearest toilet?",
I asked an executive.
"The downstairs boys are available."
"Are they clean?"
"They looked good when I checked them this morning."
Reassured I headed in their direction.

Relieved, I squatted naturally on the the bowl.
As I viewed the grotesque writing on the walls
of the cubicle
an awareness smacked me with full affront.
Quelle horreur! What a predicament!
There was no paper!
(Of course!, the school was empty, it had not been supplied)

I considered the resources at my disposal.
The water?
... I had no knowledge of the operational method.
A handkerchief?
... disposal presented a problem.
... there was nothing for it, I must venture forth.

With pants around my ankles,
waddling like a duck or a dancing Cossack dwarf,
I headed for the entrance.

I found a bin filled with useful paper.
I grabbed two sheets and
as quickly as the action allowed
returned to my former position
on the bowl.

Regaining my seat I considered my sheets.

One was a tract from a religious instruction lesson
complete with an illustration of Jesus giving the sermon
on the mount.

On the other a quote from Xenophones

" If oxen and horses and lions had hands or could draw with these
hands, horses would draw pictures of gods like horses, and oxen
like oxen, lions like lions, and the gods would resemble the bodies
each species possesses"
and a picture of Karl Marx.

Was this telling me something?
What a dilemma!
Was I to deface a picture of our Lord, or was I being invited to wipe out a
seminal concept which led to mans emancipation?
Any decision would be a philosophical commitment.

Would God forgive me?

I made a leap of pure faith,

flushed,

and pulled up my pants.

Better to live with shit
than to forsake ideals
or commit sacrilege.

It was an uncomfortable feeling.