A midnight queue
to use the loo
the final act has faded.

Where could it be,
this lavatory,
on which my bum descended?

A Kettering field
in which we yield,
our hearts and minds upended

A place of grace
but a trial I face
‘cos without a trace
the toilet roll has ended!

Greenbelt Festival is home to me, a place I’m pulled back to year after year to meet friends, have my soul restored, and enjoy a thoroughly good time. This year was no exception. The combination of talks, music, camping, and yes, poetry, is good for me. Home now, I’m missing it all, all that is except the portaloos…. Here’s one written at the end of Saturday night.
(29.08.23)

© Ben Quant 2023