With phone in hand, not soon from the bathroom
With clothes neatly tucked, curls not awry

After such sitting without shitting
But just texting without reflecting

O the peace and the quiet
Life she’d had it by the thumbs

And, yes and too, by the way
Sans smells unpleasant or even splashing.
 
— Poem and drawing—done with acrylic paint and an umbrella tip—by William Eaton

∩ Title adapted from the closing lines of Past one o’clock, a translation by (Max Hayward and George Reavey), of a poem by Vladimir Mayakovsky, “Уже второй должно быть ты легла…”:

в такие вот часы встаешь и говоришь
векам истории и мирозданию

In hours like these, one rises to address
The ages, history, and all creation.

This borrowing of mine, however, may seem ironic—if not macabre—as Mayakovsky used the middle section of this poem, with slight changes, as an epilogue to his suicide note. We might note the following line, which may be true perhaps both of Mayakovsky’s life and of our age: “любовная лодка разбилась о быт”. Love’s boat has smashed on the rocks of life.