In the queue for the final
service station urinal
I unzip and tip the wink
to a man who couldn’t wait
and is going in the sink.

O, the bliss as the piss streams
like a pale-gold limousine
and hissing, hits the polished bowl
rolls, then disappears down the hole.

And as I stand there arms akimbo,
eyes fixed down and thoughts in limbo
I let slip the loudest fart I’ve ever heard.

I blush and flush. It hangs there like a turd.