There’s this 3 to 4 hundred thousand dollar toilet
on Occidental square
the only thing occidental in this particular square
could be the toilet paper
when in stock
I watch from a distance
closer than any cop dares
as several “sorts” go in
for various periods at a time
I can imagine numerous activities
none which involve those intended functions
this money sponge boondoggle
was built for
Traffic moves haltingly along
15 to 20 bodies collect like bird droppings on benches
and spill upon the uneven concrete
A man to the left of me is passed out and has
a gigantic hard-on poking up
or else his crack pipe
is trapped at a provocative angle
An argument ensues from the high-tech outhouse
as the door slides open
5 dollar, 5 dollar . . . give me my money!
Fuck you, man, give me back my pipe.
Dim sum wafts over the square
camps with the stale essence of Ole English 800
This 3 to 4 hundred thousand dollar toilet
anchors the rest
as does the red pagoda
thirsty for a fresh coat of paint
My tax dollars at work
I walk home
(one mile or one hundred, it wouldn’t make any difference)
to take a big crap
—Larry Crist