I am going to read this out on Monday in the Sandbar. I am a big fan of Jonathan Swift (particularly The Lady's Dressing Room) and Norman O Brown and this is a true (unfortunately) tribute to them.

 

 

Stirred from browsing,

My intestinal arousing

Yearning for soft furnishing-

Almost spent

And yet my system

Suggested

I had so much more to give.

 

I was in the throes

Of expelling my woes

Amongst the shoes,

 

Orifice’s sacrifice deft

On warp and weft 

I curse Gravity’s theft-

 

And still

I went to the till-

Queued

With mothers in pashminas

And flared nostrils,

The imbuing anecdote

Calm in the moment of emote,

I readied for the swipe

Of some new tights

And wet wipes.

 

At last the Ladies an oasis

For the origin of the faeces;

 

Life is scary-

I shit it sometimes.