In the civilization
Of roller coasters
Boardwalks
And hot dogs,
A woman resides.
A megalomaniacal creature
Regulating the bowels
Of the masses
Dwelling within utopia
Embraced by Cyrillic characters.
She is a lonely one
Sandwiched between iconic depictions
Of woman and man
Charging bits for shits.
Damn her.
Damn her microeconomic greed.
Her purse of change
Shall hereby be referred to as
The piss pot.
Screw that shit.
We should rally.
We should rebel.
We should protest.
We should agitate
This exploiter of excrement.
I,
The vanguard of vaginal and penile release,
Protect the passage of poops and peeps
And shall chant cries of revolution like Che
¡Viva la defecación!
¡Viva la orinación!
¡Viva la masturbación!
Um...
Scratch that last one.
Manipulation of one's genitals
After riding the Cyclone
Is too warped
Even for this poem.
Anyhow,
I must digress from the diarrhea.
She is evil.
She is the worst element of our society.
She must be stopped.
To think,
A woman
So preoccupied by pee
Fascinated by feces
And yes,
Even stimulated by semen and smegma
Could profit from Homo sapien upheaval
And waste management of the biological variety
Twenty amd five cents at a time.
Boycott the bathroom
And piss in your water bottles.
Leave her a quarter,
And put her to work
By making her empty a gross of gross liquid.
There is no way she will win.
We must act now
For no more taxpayer dollars
Should ever go down
The piss pot.

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