A standstill collapse
     locked door

sneaking a peek
to glimpse the rotting fuel
tunneling down a pipe
these anchoritic pieces
of me
falling into the orgy
of
   classless waste
— a humming noise
coming from the wall

and
           the thought
that you’ll never leave
this toilet alive

why should i?

this could be my last
excretion

my masterpiece of unpremeditated
feces

the revelation of the kingdom
of heaven
precisely when my
fat butt cheeks
begin to contract
 for the final
plunge
(into the consciousness
of process and
       decay)

jesus lord the fetidness
now
the work of
cleaning the gorge

my hands
 gosh my hands
have mastered the crevice

SPOTLESSSSSS!

i stand, faucet, dry

Unlock
the world

return to the busy society
as another impeccable
glamour divinity
of the
human
race.

Modern Poetry