Toilet Stall Depictions
There's a movement down South
where sound comes creeping
from beneath our feet, emptying
pockets which never had much.
You can see what we've written-
our bathroom stalls read
'Do something for the hell of it... anything...'
The messages are clustered around depictions
of stick-figures having gay intercourse.
Money- the ways they lied to us
unintentionally, believing
just like we do it’s a means to safety
or luxury cars with ass-warming seats.
But it's just an enhancer of methods
for questioning, down with the pill,
all cost and no lasting.
What gives weight to the want
for lingering? Beauty was,
and thus she is, now
and *** tomorrows.
Today, though form
and seasons change,
we have the means for loving.
‘Til the presently mysterious fabric
of time collapses, returning
to whatever it was
that caused it to begin.
Copyright © Erin Beckett | Year Posted 2014
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