Toilet Poem by Hugo Williams
I wonder will I speak to the girl sitting opposite me on this train. I wonder will my mouth open and say, 'Are you going all the way to Newcastle?' or 'Can I get you a coffee?' Or will it simply go 'aaaaah' as if it had a mind of its own?
Half closing eggshell blue eyes, she runs her hand through her hair so that it clings to the carriage cloth, then slowly frees itself. She finds a brush and her long fair hair flies back and forth like an African fly-whisk, making me feel dizzy.
Suddenly, without warning, she packs it all away in a rubber band because I have forgotten to look out the window for a moment. A coffee is granted permission to pass between her lips and does so eagerly, without fuss.
A tunnel finds us looking out the window into one another's eyes. She leaves her seat, but I know that she likes me because the light saying 'TOILET' has come on, a sign that she is lifting her skirt, taking down her pants and peeing all over my face.
Friday, January 3, 2003 COMMENTS OF THE POEM Fred Babbin 30 November 2007A man of my own heart.
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