Dads New Toilet Car

Dads New Toilet Car

A giant toilet car barrels down the street,

plop-plop goes the engine,

flushes echo with every turn.

People dive for cover, ducks squawk in terror,

cats leap into trees, tails like question marks.

Inside, the driver sips coffee from a bowl,

toilet paper streams out the windows like confetti,

landing on lampposts, dogs, and confused pedestrians.

The horn burps, gurgles, and sneezes lavender soap,

while somewhere a tiny choir of frogs sings,

“Long live the porcelain king of chaos!”

Puddles of mystery liquid bounce off the wheels,

splashing mailboxes, bicycles,

and a very startled hotdog stand.

Even the clouds seem to shiver and roll away,

as the toilet car glides past, unstoppable, unstoppable,

leaving a trail of absurdity and giggles behind.