So the chiming clock
And the timing hour hand
Sent every dozing eye to sleep land
And oh nature had called at an hour so odd
A call he must honour…at all cost
At an hour he did not suspect…he had received nature’s call
At a place he did not respect…he had answered nature’s call
He looked back at the call
That call…that sent him out that odd hour
See where you fall…in the free zone of putrefaction
Shame how you fall…like a product of incubation
So he played the game of shame
He named this shame…the game with a name
A game of open defecation
And so he laid the blame squarely
On nature’s calling…on a troubling belly
II
The very eyes of the beholders…were looking on
The onlookers were beholding
And behold!
There was a pissing spree
Oh this his pissing pastime
Pissing…just as in times past
He looked on the right side..and then on the left side
He chose to piss there…right there
On their left side
Hei! he pissed
He pissed onlookers off
He passed by the eyes of the beholders
He pissed in their midst…in the midst of onlookers
He wasn’t a loner…so he realized
She was on his side
She was spraying the wee wee in a wee bit…as she pissed
Pissing off everyone
Pulling every eye along
Pushing every masculine eye off…to see no evil
She parted every covering…clothing her
Pissing everyone off
She squatted into a bowlegged pose
Spurting and spilling as she rose
Squinting at those who admired her pose
III
Mr Mucus
Brother Phlegm
Sister Saliva
Senior Sputum
The siblings conspired to split his side…with a spit
The siblings used to lie in chesty, throaty
quietness
Now they quicken quite a mouthful…of spit
A temptation he could not refuse
A spitting he did not resist
He spits to forfeit a dignity…on the streets
He spits to spew indignity…upon all he meets
IV
His nose…nosed around
To pick up dust that arose unsettled
And then the dust settled in his nose…into a sticky dose
He picked up the dust…from his nose
He picked his nose of the dusty, sticky, dose…from his nose
Unto his forefinger
And upon his forefinger it lingered…and lingered
Till he delivered in a handshake…in a handshaking galore
V
Once upon a litter box
He posted his litter in a box
Once again at a litter post
He posts his litter on a spot
He dares to litter late…into the watercourse
He reads the weather with the weather man…for a pouring rain
He litters the drains in the rain
Now and again
He dares to wait for a fine…on the spot
He must have a date with a sanitation court
The post Poetry Corner: Waste Mismanagement appeared first on The Business & Financial Times.
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