Dark Satanic Toilets



The urinals unseen

Are heard
Playing host to an incessant and North-Country drip
I can hear
Their public porcelain
Their brass and copper fittings

Their aging tiles
Haven't seen a cigarette in over a decade
But they are nicotined

And stains
stains echo

Paints yellow
Off Pink and
Institutionally soothing
Clash imperfectly
Missing kitsch

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