When the bowels need to move there’s no solace like home.
Anywhere else but there is profusely obscene.
Public places provided for people at large
Are a blessing. They help anyone to take charge
Of the business of flushing the full colon clean.
When the call comes, you don’t want a forest to roam.
But at home is the perfect place and much preferred
By most humans. It’s simply a matter of taste.
For some creatures the great halls of congress are fine.
Only those like them would call their actions benign.
Animals of this nature who speak with their waste
Reenact racist sentiment and without word.
I keep my shit in one place. It isn’t out there
Where the public may smell it. It’s not that I’m shy.
There’s no place like the toilet for madness and hate.
If folks did this in private their shit would be straight.
If they call themselves human then one must ask why
They see life from the toilet and don’t seem to care.
Where the heart is is home. I know that beyond doubt.
Like my home and most others’, it’s where love is born.
And from there it is nurtured so that people grow
To certain understandings. Some acts are below
Those of civilized humans, and only forewarn
Of the odor among all with feces to tout.