Hazardous Waste

That day the stars allowed

How the sun took its rouse in Cancer,

Crab and moon, and in the White Mountains

Of New Hampshire, a fool concealed

Himself in the waste pool of a women's

Outhouse to subdue with the tattoo

Of the taboo, to ravage the itch

Of irreparable ignorance and insane

Fascination with the rainbow's

Fatuous promises, pot of gold,

Root vegetable harvest and fruit

Of the enigma of a woman's micturition,

Self-evident truth of her evacuation

Throughout this subterranean bunker

Of hunger's consequences. This time

A girl took a peek into hell before

Settling her buttocks' naked cheeks

On the wooden button hole, saw beneath

The board a filth-encrusted anti-Christ

And cried in all languages "Eek!"

Which signaled patrolling county police,

Who queried,* summoned,** hosed him

Down and arraigned him, this Moody

From Maine, descended from wild

Evangelical Presbyters, Scottish Covenenters,

And Reverend Joseph "Handkerchief" Moody

Of Hawthorne fame, before a merely

Human judge. Oval stones, pocked, dimpled

And smooth, crowd the Kancamagus

Riverbed, whose waters, home to bugs,

Tadpoles and trout, are frigid and fast.

A sensible girl always takes a peek

Into hell before settling her buttocks'

Naked cheeks on the glory hole on either

A porcelain or pioneer throne. Don't scorn

Poor Moody of Maine for being deranged

With greed and forlorn, but be grateful

Satanic life never bids you seek this acme

And zenith of unholy truth in a tine

Of the flesh, the divine's ubiquitous horn.

* "What are you doing?"
** "Come out!"