Found
in the last stall
eyes swollen
. . . . . . . gray, fat,
glinting bloodshot
considerate gaping wrists dangling in the bowl
kneeling, poised,
limp pallor
. .What right?
. . . . . What right?
. . . . . . . rats with wings
. . . . . . . foul, useless birds
. . . . . . . deface monuments to the dead
. . . . . . . swarm like locusts or cockroaches
fouler than grackles
. . . . . . . across the pale, flaccid South
. . . . . . . students scream
teachers call the authorities
hold back bile
think blame across the city
. . . .What right?
. . . . . . . What right?
. . . .an economic burden no longer
. . . . . . . gray downy plaid
. . . . . . . nuisance of feathers and feces
. . . . . . . bloated young stuffed away in nests
. . . whitewashed statuesque gray corpse
pigeon-eyed
staring last eternity
white basin
red-black water
a uniform barely stained

There was not a drop on the gray, tile floor.