Toilet Manners

They say you can learn a lot about someone
by their table manners
but I think you learn a hell of a lot more
by taking a good look at their shit

You see

As a custodian in a laboratory
I can tell you first hand that
sometimes the more education one has
the less interesting he or she becomes
less polite, less human

I take my lunch break alone
so I'm oblivious to their manners
but I clean their toilets
and that tells me enough

Like one of the "ladies" on the upper floors
has an ass like a champagne bottle that
once open
seems to squirt and spray
beneath the seat
and onto the wall
to run down
into a brown puddle
behind the toilet

and almost every single time
a solitary piece of corn
remains floating unflushed

Perhaps it was the cork
that sealed her up

Till her secluded celebration

Eastside Vigil

Frank Zito

Tread softly Sunday morning
Proceed with caution
-taped streets, an epidemic
of senseless sinkholes and drive-bys
A not so dazzling display
of starched uniforms and flashing lights
that generally follow
gunpowder stink
and shell-shocked civilian faces
startled from slumber
in the rat piss night
wondering whose child ate the lead
Eyeing that place
on the stained sidewalk
as to return at daybreak
to lay a candle

Right beside the others

Pirate of the Careless Beings

Repeated thought patterns

Circumnavigate the mind

Like ghost ships in dense fog

In search of uninhabited

Or less populated land

Ever-ready to anchor down and drop

The pen in search

Of new challenges, new ideas

 An exploration in expression

Difficult to move

Forward, so many hands on deck

 But as the captain of this life

By sharp tongue or sharp knife

I’m always prepared

To cut down anyone

With the slightest notion

That I care about the menial

Tasks I’ve undertaken

 To replenish my rations