Chance Encounters in the Men’s Room
With knee high socks and leather boots,
They occupy adjacent stalls
Like a new race of humans,
Passing the toilet paper, exchanging
Nocturnal glances in the hope
That their foreheads have finally learned
To breathe—as they learn to forgive
Themselves with salvation’s new leif,
(Or is it leaf or fig leaf?)
While listening to sensorial
Merciful symphony,
They share concerns about AI
And paradox of power, fallibilities
Of human judgement, deli meats
And foot massages, and all the other
Gobbledygook that a new race of senior
Citizens is prone to, while sitting
Like philosopher kings on their
Porcelain thrones, discussing
Jesus, climate change, imperiled
Oasis of truth and the imminent
Dangers to our democracy,
Humility and human decency.
May 31, 2026
--Alexander Shaumyan
The Door: Selected Poems
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But perhaps at communal toilets in bucket list trailer parks such encounters occur while older people take their time doing their obligation on the crapper.
I remember multiple hole outhouses…they stunk.
On another thought, while some used to read while waiting for the inevitable or not, I never did. Today, they probably get on their phones and commute with their fellow crapper friends instead of meeting them at the bar like they used to.
Ron
Fortunately, methinks, the 'other Gobbledygook' that our newer race of junior citizens seems to entertain these days is a bit further removed into the Twilight Zone than that of their senior critics.
Some vivid images here, Alex.