Poems of the Week


by Iris Herriot

“Controversy is swirling around a proposed public lavatory in San Francisco
after a city newspaper exposed the project’s eye-watering price tag of $1.7m.”
The Guardian

(To the tune of “I Left My Heart in San Francisco“)

The lavabos of Paris seem somehow sadly cheap;
The bagni that are Rome are only fit for sheep;
My poor bladder’s been abused something rotten in Manhattan:
I’m going home to that rest room by the Bay.
I left my sense in San Francisco,
Deep in a grand WC,
To be where there’s a perfect stall to answer nature’s call!
The morning fog may turn to sleet, here’s my seat:
My loo waits there in San Francisco;
I’ll cry “Urethra!” learnedly;
When I come home to you, San Francisco,
I’ll take earth’s most expensive pee.