Two Bricks Over A Hole
You were sitting on the grass
outside your tent
at the base camp
along the road from Tangiers
smoking a cigarette
when Mamie came along
and stood with her arms folded
and her red hair damp
and her face flushed
like a spanked behind
Have you seen the latrines?
She asked
No not yet
you replied
she took a deep intake
of breath and then said
I expected at least
a white bowl
but there are just two bricks
over a hole in the ground
and no paper
to wipe yourself afterwards
you exhaled smoke
and said
You're meant to
take your own with you
Your own latrine?
She said angrily
No your own bog roll
you said
she sighed
and looked down
towards the beach
reaching to
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poem by Terry Collett
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