Shit Poem

So, all that stuff we’ve done with, flows?
slops? slithers? along this pipe
and into the sea?

Surely not? That doesn’t sound right to me.
People, children, go swimming in the sea
don’t they?

I expect somebody out there knows
how these things work
and will tell me that I’m wrong.

But it would be good if we could dispose
of all the crap that comes our way this easily.
Flush it away. Send it down a chute

and let it wash up on distant shores.
But not on mine, of course.
And not on yours.