Toilet dreams

It’s three in the morning, I want to go and I’ve become uncomfortable aware,
That I need to wake up from a reoccurring lavatory nightmare.
I dream that I’m in toilet heaven, every bog is free,
Every lavvie says use me, come in sir and come in and have a pee,
But there’s something wrong, the walls are made of glass
People shopping in the street outside can clearly see my…
I pull the chain and find another toilet you’re still desperate for a wee,
But it’s overflowing with… I’d rather not say – in case you’ve just had your tea.
There are lots of toilets, but each one is broken just like all the others,
I want to go, I want to wake up, but it’s cold outside the duvet covers.
“Will you stop your fidgeting, give me the duvet and mind your bloody feet,”
It’s Rita! “What’s wrong with you? Stop twitching, I want to go to sleep.”
Now she’s got all the duvet, I’m still bursting, but awake and completely bare,
So I get up. Go. Hardly worth it. But it ends my reoccurring lavatory nightmare.

Harry Mottram 2016