Ode to John
©Lyn and Vic Crain
exercise in humor
How much time do you waste each day ridding wastes on the porcelain throne
Do you think about the years you’ve spent, or maybe how much you’ve grown?
For the guy this is a reading nook, a place of peace and quiet
For a gal, a quick call or text or maybe the Readers Digest.
At work it’s a place to escape annoying colleagues and of course the boss
It’s a place to decompress and consider your gain and the size of your loss.
At school you might use it to calm nerves before a test, to avoid a bully
Or someone you want to date who scares you, or something else so silly.
On trips you pick your gas stops where you think you might find one so clean
Or where you’ll be safe and not have to deal with boys so surly and mean.
If you have too much whiskey, it’s your sanctuary, a place to kneel and pray
Where no one can see you or hear the promises for the future that you say.
Indeed it is a magic thing, something that can be used for many ends.
Even kitties are now taught to use it, guess they don’t mind the smell it sends.
With the lid down it becomes a seat for a conversation with a shaver,
Or a place against which to brace while a thermometer checks your fever.
On aircraft there are other uses, you know of the Mile High Club?
But no noise lest the knock on the door, aye there’s the rub.
The man who invented this, I hear his name was Crapper.
No puns please, he deserves better, like a song from a famous rapper.
The child, the priest, the banker, the drunk all pay homage to it each day
Do you think about the years you’ve spent, or maybe how much you’ve grown?
For the guy this is a reading nook, a place of peace and quiet
For a gal, a quick call or text or maybe the Readers Digest.
At work it’s a place to escape annoying colleagues and of course the boss
It’s a place to decompress and consider your gain and the size of your loss.
At school you might use it to calm nerves before a test, to avoid a bully
Or someone you want to date who scares you, or something else so silly.
On trips you pick your gas stops where you think you might find one so clean
Or where you’ll be safe and not have to deal with boys so surly and mean.
If you have too much whiskey, it’s your sanctuary, a place to kneel and pray
Where no one can see you or hear the promises for the future that you say.
Indeed it is a magic thing, something that can be used for many ends.
Even kitties are now taught to use it, guess they don’t mind the smell it sends.
With the lid down it becomes a seat for a conversation with a shaver,
Or a place against which to brace while a thermometer checks your fever.
On aircraft there are other uses, you know of the Mile High Club?
But no noise lest the knock on the door, aye there’s the rub.
The man who invented this, I hear his name was Crapper.
No puns please, he deserves better, like a song from a famous rapper.
The child, the priest, the banker, the drunk all pay homage to it each day
lyncrain 