PostPoems Be Artistic. Be Creative. Be Inspired!

I sit here now on the toilet,
pants around my ankles, feet either cold
or just very wet. It's hard to tell.
Dust bunnies dance in a circular motion
along with bits of paper, rolled in tiny knots
(excess from wiping) as a small breeze
rolls in
from under the door. A dusty Buddha
made of soap watches me shit. An ironic coincidence
that this is the only place I find
inner peace: alone in the bathroom,
excreting my innards.