Ladies room

White porcelain, gleaming tile floors,
the smell of solvents prickling the eyes,
a reflective door without a fingerprint,
and below it, three sets of feet, a pair
of sneakers dangling high, hanging pants,
high heels in the middle, back to the door,
and squeezed in somehow, another
sneaker of another little boy
balancing on one foot.
Espera, don’t touch anything. Don’t
touch anything. Everything
is dirty.” A bigger boy, looking
at the floor, stands by the sink
holding four coats, staying clean.

I have written a surprising amount about bathrooms. I rewrote this old poem for the dVerse prompt.


  1. I’ve written a couple poems about my bathrooms not public facilities. One was calling to me when I heard a strange noise and walked into the bathroom to find the toilet bowl empty of all water.

    Liked by 2 people

  2. Yes! You’ve got it! Have observed scenes such as this before with families crowded into bathrooms so little children don’t wander off. My worst bathroom experience was when I was in Australia and needed to use the old toilet at the Car Race track. After finishing and flushing I found a huge cane toad, highly poisonous, under the rim!

    Liked by 2 people

  3. Such a familiar scene. Public restrooms are not equipped for a mother and her children. They’ve thought of everything else, why not family restrooms?


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