Two toilets diverged in a nasty bathroom,
And sorry I could not dump in both
And be one traveler, long I stood
And looked down one as far as I could
To where it clogged in the undergrowth;

Then took the other, as just as disgusting,
And having perhaps the better claim,
Because it was nasty and wanted wear;
Though as for the asses passing there
Had worn them really about the same,

And both that morning equally lay
In stains truckers trodden black.
Oh, I kept the first for another day!
Yet knowing how way leads on to way,
I doubted if I should ever come back.

I shall be telling this with a fart
Somewhere ages and ages hence:
Two toilets diverged in a nasty bathroom, and I—
I took the one less besmirched by,
And that has made all the difference.

If it isn’t already abundantly obvious, this poem is an ode to the Robert Frost classic: A Road Not Taken.  I’m sure he appreciates it.

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