As the foul stench creeps over the public toilets of Hoppers Crossing, as the stale piss reaches my nostrils, I awake and rise…
Into the shit-house I wander, like many nights before, another turd to deposit in the dirty toilet bowl.
Soggy toilet paper, on piss-covered floors.
Into the Infinity of Shit-logs, the unhygienic cubicles of faeces, into the filthy public toilets, beyond the scent of soap, talcum powder and flowers.
Hear the whispering of my farts, the vapours from my anus calling…
I gaze into the murky bowl which grants me visions, these two floating stumps on a bed of wet toilet paper and for each flush brown particles break off and float away.
Particles of faeces floating in the water.
Defiant shit-logs bouncing around in the turbulent toilet water.
I gaze into the Toilet which makes my mind pure as crystal lakes, my eyes fixed on the floating treasure, for there is faeces inside.
It guides me into vile disgusting public toilets, into the infinity of farts… farts of upcoming reality.
In the name of the Majestic Fat Log of Shit I will spread the faeces with pride, carrying the Shit-brush it hand, in warfare.
I will hurl my faeces at other people.
Like a monkey hurling poop from the cage.
I shall hurl my faeces upon all people… even the women and children.
Wherever there is hygiene the hordes of the brown eclipse will spread faeces, urine and farts under the reign of sloppy diarrhoea.
The lands will grow brown.
And urine will fall from the skies.
And the wastelands of methane will prevail.
The lands will grow brown And the stench of faeces prevails May these moments in the shit filled public toilets be eternal.
May the foul stench haunt my nostrils… In Brownness…
By Guest Pooet, Yellowbeard