The man who cleans the ladies’ toilet
Tries to stay invisible
Knowing he’s unwelcome, and
His job is somehow risible
An overflowing bin too ripe
With gravid, bloody stink
The stains that form behind the pipe
The vomit in the sink
The woman who mops out the gents’
Is handy with her fists
As banging on the cubicles
Helps lovers to resist
Temptations of a toilet dweller
Keen to wet their beak
With sins of flesh on offer
Even seasoned will’s too weak
Where users of facilities
One tries hard to forget
Don’t pass too close, as ill at ease
Our bladders we regret
And silent in our tinklings
Groans and grunts are magnified
Graffiti grows in sprinklings
Where we defecate inside
Katherine Shirley 