A drank a lot of coffee
And I really need to pee
But the people waving placards
Make it difficult for me
They’re policing public potties
(I mean, really? Who’d have thunk!)
With the slightest instigation
They’ll demand to see your junk!
And my feet are really tired
So I’d really rather sit
But the throne patrol is listening
For signs I took a shit—
If they think I’m only peeing
And I’ve chosen not to stand
They’ll accost me when I’ve finished
With their “Drop your pants!” command
They’re protecting people’s privacy—
At least, that’s what they say—
But by peering at our privates?
I just wish they’d go away.
(And I wish that they would hurry,
cos I really gotta go,
Though that’s much more information
Than my readers want to know)
And the ones who need protection
Are the people they would bar!
Are there folks who shouldn’t be here?
Yes—the bathroom commissar!
It’s a manufactroversy
Meant to show us who is boss—
As they fight the shrinking power
Of the bible and the cross
So they bother us in bathrooms,
Or at clinics, or in schools,
And they run for local government
To try to change the rules
I could tell you more about them
Though I’m rarely one who rants,
But I really need to—…never mind…
I’ve got to change my pants.
In completely unrelated news, I’ll up before the birds tomorrow morning, and off to parts unknown for several days. Play nicely; I’ll be back at some point next week.