Public Toilets in Regent’s Park by Richard Scott

Public Toilets in Regent’s Park

 

The men here are bird-footed

feathering past the attendant’s two-way mirror

unperturbed by the colonising micro-organisms –

bulleidia    cobetia    shigellosis  

 

sliming across the yellowed groutings,

the fist-deep pool of brackish water

quivering in the U-bend, the tile that reads

for information on venereal disease telephone 01 . . .

 

All for the thrill of placing their knees

on the piss-stained cold, the iris shimmering

behind a hand-carved glory hole,

a beautiful cock unfolding like a swan’s neck

from the Harris Tweed of a city gent’s suit.

 

Whispers, gasps of contact echo

inside each nested cubicle! But careful –

the prying attendant will rattle

her bucket and mop if she spies four shoes!

Our men disperse as mallards from the face of a pond.