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Ode To A Commode

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Thing of porcelain

Thing of white

Why standest thou

In lid-raised fright?

Hast thou seen some apparition

That betokens thy condition?

Or doth thy posture merely indicate

The gender that used thy service late?

No matter-

Now we are alone.

I, the King

And thou my throne.

The End
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Dixmyth You're currently reading the poem Ode To A Commode, which was posted on Aug 13, 2010 by Dixmyth.

This is a solo poem.

About this poem

"a short, admittedly mixed metaphor, bathroom fixture inspired whimsy."

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This poem is filed under:
Just for Fun

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