Toilet Bowl Tapestry

by Olivia McNorton


The artist anxiously awaits and avoids 

creates chaos centrally until upset 

emerges on elegant easel, porcelain palace providing 

lenient latrine. Olive Garden, McDonald’s, 7-Eleven, 

a hole in the ground rotting of waste 

she doesn’t hesitate to create.

Hair harnessed, forbidden 

fingers prod esophagus 

invoking art to erupt. 


The bowl, adorning white halo 

disgraced by behinds, fastens the artist’s front. 

Waterfall sashays, art spews forth 

drops of dates

strokes of spinach 

petals of pizza 

bits of bacon

tint of tea

hint of honey 

pieces of peace 

deposited into sanitized waters. 

Sorrowed stomach recoils from the 

amalgamation of despair and design.  


Body bends backwards, eyes on popcorn sky

record rotates, Amy Winehouse laments. 

The artist chimes in, copes with coupled cadence

cynical song echoing 

woes of women who 

kill themselves kindly.

Murder made meticulously 

inducing inward illness 

sacrificing sanity on knobby knees. 


Willfully warranting their 

skin to sallow 

throats to throb

hands to hinder

fingers to fracture 

enamel to erase. 

Eyes to expose  

the artist who creates art via 

emptying ego into a toilet bowl,

hoping a tapestry emerges

immortalizing cloth depicting woman destroying herself, 

hanging high above her fatal easel.  

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