Stainless Hygiene

Poem By Alison Cassidy

In Croydon town last week
I chanced to have to use
The fully automated
Hygienic push-button
Toilet complex - recently installed.

Confronted by a row
of gleaming stainless doors
labeled aggressively (and also in Braille)
I pressed the 'vacant' button.
A door opened automatically
and I entered the stainless world.

Inside the sound of stainless music
filled the air and a stainless voice
(American) said emphatically
'Push button to close door.
You have ten minutes.'

With some trepidation,
confronted wth such a time limit,
I sat upon the stainless seat
and pressed a button
which released paper - slowly
one sheet at a time.

After hastily completing my task
I stood and failed to find
a button to flush the stainless bowl
(without the usual lid to close)
Again I heart the steely voice command
'Wash your hands and the toilet
will flush automatically'

Guiltily I held my hands under
the stainless tap and let the water run.
The door released, the music stopped
and I made a hasty retreat.

Henceforth when taken short,
I'll use the dunnies at the railway station
despite their broken seats
and piss-stained concrete floors.

Comments about Stainless Hygiene

Be awful to be caught short approaching this well described stainless steel mausoleum. Frankly I'd prefer to find a friendly tree...
Oh, harrharrharrr! ! ! I'm with you, gal - gimme those human-designed terlets every time! I'm surprised the others don't require a shower first with special attention to one's bits. Voyeurs would have a good time waiting for those ten minutes to expire. My gosh, the possibilities are endlesssssss! Pet peeve: lidless toilets. When you flush, all kinds of objectionable lifeforms are spewed into the air in a 6' (two meter) radius. IGGGGK! Oh, did I say that I enjoyed the poem? But not your suffering! Esther: ]
As your fellow victim's innards stir in sympathy - after the ten minutes is up, the doors open automatically... handy if you've gone catatonic with fear, but to the constipated, all too revealing.. and there's always worse to come.. like, what a great time for verbal ads...'Sitting comfortably? Then try our new Laffaloud toilet seats - they interact with the sitter like someone in the next cubicle...' A neat, compact, hygienic poem that brings a flush to my cheeks.
that was really funny and made a good must have felt like a kid being reminded to wash up! ! ...your poem flowed! ! !
Alison, my reading of late, has been the Objectivists and I am listen to Bachs' lute sonatas now. So structure is to the fore. This has it all. yes there is humour, but one that would appeal to English and German. This is the sign of great poetry when one can turn the banal into extroidinary. In this, you suceed.

Rating Card

4,4 out of 5
7 total ratings

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air-conditioned, thank God!
The patronage was mostly middle class

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You watched me hug him – your husband of sixty odd years;

A Son Is Born

I place the peonies on the windowsill -
a perfect present for the new mum,
flushed and furry-eyed on the unmade bed.

! ! Dancing With Dylan

He is propped on all fours
when I arrive -
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face strangely serious.

! ! Just Gus

The Gossips
stand proudly
on their shelf above the kitchen -
a singular reminder

! ! Mother's Last Mothers Day

And on that last Mothers Day,
when the birch leaves
fluttered pale gold,
and the magpies chortled