Friday, September 7, 2012

Bathroom Poetry

Every once in a while, I'm forced to enter public bathrooms.
Anyone who has experienced the wrath of twelve years of public schooling knows exactly why I'm so hesitant to step foot into them. I'm not totally unconvinced my high school bathroom didn't harbor some unknown strain of Ebola, considering that literally every time I made the mistake of pitching a loaf there, I got sick. Oh, and before anyone says anything, the girl's bathroom was no walk in the park. Oh yeah, I went in there a number of times... Don't ask why.

The point is, when I do go enter public bathrooms, I'm always amazed by the graffiti. Most of the time, it's usually a number of obscenities or crudely drawn penises carved into stalls where someone took the effort to smear their excrement on the toilet seat by some arcane method I don't even want to humor. But ever so rarely, I'll find something worth while. Very rarely.
That being said, it would appear Texas Tech has a thriving underground poetry scene running through various men's bathroom stalls. I found this one on the first floor of Holden Hall, on the off chance anyone wants to witness this beauty first hand.
I'll post more as I find them, but for now... just bask in this.
Poetry at its finest.

Here I sit, broken-hearted
I tried to shit, but only farted
Should I lie or should I linger?
or should I be forced to use my finger...

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