(talking to herself)

talking to herself
two stalls down -- no Bluetooth
headset in sight

Vowels and Bowels

I hate it when

you know you're

going to have to

poop soon, but not yet,

and you're on your way

to work

(or a court date

or a TV interview).

You know it's coming

soon, but you don't know

how soon.

You could be

in the middle of a

sentence in meeting

when, suddenly,

your stomach begins

to churn and

your bowels begin

to burn.

You can't always

escape to a restroom

the moment you need one.

You try to smile and

continue your interview

(or conference call

or cross examination)

with some modicum

of decorum, but

all you can think of is

"POOP!"

All you want to do

is find a nice,

secluded stall

and let it fly.

Instead, you're stuck

in a light brown room

expected to string turds

(I mean words)

together intelligently

with a pile

(I mean smile).

Untimely Departure (Cat Got Your Dung)

Sometimes
Mother Nature calls
at the most
inopportune times.
I get up early
so that I can
get to work early.
But Mother Nature
interrupts my plan
with an exit strategy
of her own.
Once I honor her urging
and take a seat,
just a few moments
into our session,
she decides to be
difficult and stubborn.
My extra minutes

waste away

and my momentum slows
to a screeching
halt.

I will not be

early today
thanks to the delay
down under.
I am stalled
and stuck
and stationed
on the stool
for as long as it takes
for Mother Nature
to drop her kids off
at the pool.
And eventually,
once I finally
arrive at work,
I search for a
truthful, yet tactful
explanation for my
late state of affairs.
I could say,
"Traffic was stuck;
nothing was moving."
But, I settle on
"an urgent call
from my mother"
and leave it at that.

Just One of Those Things

It's strange --
funny, really --

that one

woman can

walk into

the restroom,

lock her

stall door,

create a

mammoth sound

from one

tiny hole,

and walk

out of

the bathroom
in silence.

Holy Sit

When I take my seat
in the bathroom,

I am participating

in one of the most basic,

yet marvelous

human functionalities.

We have been created

with a remarkable

self-cleaning service.

(Who but a master

designer would have

conceived of this?)

So, when I sit

on the john and

take a dump,

something holy

is happening.

I am at once

connected to the

brother and sister hoods

of the earth

and to God.

Fresh and in the Can

Sometimes I just know
a poem's about to drop.
It's a feeling not unlike
the feeling I get
when my bowls are about
to move -- a bottoming out
type of sensation
that tells me
I better find
a piece of paper
(or a toilet) fast
because something's
about to plop out.
Sometimes I get that
nervous panicky feeling
when it's "time"
and I can't seem
to find any paper
(or a toilet).
My breathing gets shallow,
my armpits begin to sweat
and my mouth gets dry.

Ever notice that a
delayed delivery
results in nothing but
a constipated effort later?
The more it's postponed,
the more plugged up it gets.
It's better to let nature
take its course
while the urge is fresh.
Things move a lot

more freely that way.

Fortunately, more
times than not,
I find what I need
just in time
to avoid a blockage.

(As she entered the)

As she entered the

ladies' restroom, I whispered,

"I didn't do it."

Tough Stuff

I know life is hard
and that things can be
particularly rough
in the bathroom.
But do you really need
to vocally testify
to your difficulty
in the office restroom?
There is such a thing
as quiet desperation.
I wish for you a
silent elimination,
and for myself,
emancipation
from your proclamation.

(hearing the big blast,)

hearing the big blast,
grateful I exited the
ladies room intact

(I held my breath.)

I held my breath.
Lunch was unkind to the
previous pooper.