POEM: JEAN-CLAUDE'S TOILET SEAT

photo by Alex Lear

 

 

Jean-Claude’s toilet seat

 

I’ve seen

A lot

Of shit in my day

 

Especially at night

When he thinks no one

Can see him take a dump

 

But the aroma

Fouls the atmosphere for weeks

Air freshener does not help

 

The candles work

To cleanse the air but

He can’t stand the light

 

Sometimes he squats on me

Just to pass gas, that is how

He contemplates his future moves

 

Most thrones are plastic

I am carved ivory tusks

From the Congo

 

I know the true him

He takes me everywhere

I have my own encasement

 

And always travel first class

I am better than a pet

More reliable than a gun

 

If it is true, you are what you eat

It is even truer, you have been

What you shit

 

—kalamu ya salaam