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Uncertainty On A Wad Of Angel Soft
By Bryn Wickerd Hurling while your tits hurt is a shitty way to start a paradox. Reason leads it’s just a birth control tantrum and despite a dick sneezing raw several days a week for the last three months it’s clear this is a you-problem. Go back a few months to when being naked below…
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Like pissing the entire world out
By Vera Linder Drops raining in a bloody sea it is a brawl of bolted words. A fasting that lasted far too long. The stain of the non-repeatable whitens the throat with asphalt, it forces tonsils in statues that majestic govern dunes, silent of what one can’t be able to say, grains that are annoying…
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The Afternoon I’d Not Understand For a Decade
By Jennifer Kelley Standing outside Monticello the abode of my favorite genius, The darkness grabbed me by the ankles and tugged me under, It was the 8th grade trip to the East Coast my first time traveling without my parents. Instead, packed into the bus with my long-lost best friend and a handsome boy who…
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His Majesty’s Greatest Menace
By Matt Magee The King’s sumptuous robe lay on the floor Paved with stones of gold, with his sweaty cheeks Pressed against the filigreed porcelain throne Inlaid with jewels and dancing arabesque angels. He itched his breakfast-crusted beard, and sneezed, And a lump of steamy turd dropped out from his arse. The plop against the…
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Full of Shit
By Jaime Lynn Becker I am full of shit. It’s not a metaphor It is literal. Bowlfuls Daily Hourly I’m more on the toilet than off And, I haven’t even eaten breakfast yet This piece is from The Feminist Toilet #1. To go back and read more, click here.
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Journey to the City of Loos
By Isabel White If Bazalgette hadn’t given in to bricks! ~ We would come to this place on high days and holidays; join the ponging throng headed for the fragrant city on yonder hill, Shitopolis. Once through the gates and greeted by an army of flunkies we would be guided to our own private palace…
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Diarrhea
By Jaime Lynn Becker The loose brown dregs From my insides Without form Without shape Without consistency Without soul I am empty Hollow I gaze upon the undigested muck It sneers back at me I pull the lever Ridding myself of at least this round For now This piece is from The Feminist Toilet #1. To…
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in the streets
By Martin Hickel anyone who has ever potty trained a child knows how hard it is knowing when to ask do you need to go — or know how hard it will be for the child to see how they must not simply do what other animals do what comes naturally & relieve themselves when…
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Sittin
By Maureen Cox Everyday I sit on a porcelain throne dropping shit into it no one draws near for fear of the smell it can be hell so where’s the match?? This piece is from The Feminist Toilet #1. To go back and read more, click here.
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Stink Less
By Maureen Cox Sometimes I think my shit don’t stink no animals harmed here just bits & pieces of plants all shades mainly browns and greens like in nature only sometimes those beets slip in appearing a bloody mess looks like somethin died inside my toilet only remember no animals were harmed in the creation…