Bathroom #81, a haiku

Quiet, eighty one
I’ve come to free my little friends
White paper for me

Concentrate on you
I left streaks on porcelain
A sigh of relief

I checked my voice mail
I logged on to Google mail
I pinched a fatty

Now he’s in the stall
Loud farting reverberates
Dude, like, that’s so gross

I finish my shit
I do all the paperwork
I zip up, I’m done