Plain American Language

I cut a sliver/of WC William's finger
and placed it inside/my philosophy...

Saturday, May 24, 2008

No Water (another gross poem about my body, don't get too grossed out...should i stop putting these up, anyway? too many people know me here...)

There's no water, and I have to shit like mad
(it's amazing and terrible
how we take advantage of what we know
to be of importance---
water, being the essence of life;
our own bodies, 80% of which
is of this needed substance;
our rivers, oceans, creeks,
icebergs) with nothing
to flush except the little the porcelain contains.

Not to be let down, and with promises
of water ringing in my ears
and the idea of quick, panicked relief,
I go to do my duties
stand up and there it is again,
dripping a bit like a horse
after drink, and leaning left-ways like
when we drink Passover wine---
why should it escape when I need it
why is water leaking out of me
why do we expunge what we should save?

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