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AN OUTDOOR PRIVY
"THE OUTDOOR PRIVY"
If your age is sixty-nine
you may recall the time,
when a little house out back
fulfilled a need.
And in the rain or not,
in weather cold or hot,
you made that blissful journey
through the weed.
There was no shiny chrome,
no marble laden throne,
just a hole in a bench
to do the deed.
No mirrors on the wall,
just spiders on the crawl,
only dampness and the drear
there to heed.
No TV there in sight,
and only in daylight
was a Sears catalog
you could read.
No water, hot or cold,
no tissues on a roll,
just a bunch of cobs,
the catalog- or leaves!
Oh, that little shack out back,
it's memory now intact,
has faded from the scene
and gone indeed!
By William E. Hardison
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