After a sunset walk under
Flame of extinguishing sky
Through the field of cut grass,
.
I sit the stairs in the dark
Scraping my shoe with a stick
Trying not to smell the dog shit.
***
I read an article this morning on Poetry Foundation that almost complains about the lack of poems about shit in western poetry. Then, it goes on to explore the tradition of shit haiku. The argument seems to be that only haiku can make shit beautiful. I am not sure that they are right. I don’t think that even haiku makes shit into beauty, but more than that, I don’t believe that the job of poetry is to illuminate beauty. Poetry can illuminate beauty, but it doesn’t have to. In fact, there is a long tradition of protest poetry that is intended to illuminate the terrible things in order to bring attention to them. I hope that my small shit poem helps to prove the article wrong showing that haiku are not the only poems that can be full of shit.
If you want to read more about shit poems, you can check out the article at Poetry Foundation: https://www.poetryfoundation.org/poetrymagazine/articles/157753/haiku-on-shit