to flush a frown
reading a poem in the New Yorker
magazine on that seat for the derriere
my ignorance starts to grumble from
references obscured by odd dialogue
I’m lost in a mind maze
little chance of getting out
so I go back and read it
a second third fourth time
eventually I finish one of my
two challenges get up and leave
I’ll let you guess which one
doesn’t have a chance in hell
of a clean quick escape
you’re not allowed to flush a frown
remember only toilet paper
is permitted in the bowl
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