Ode to a Fossa Septica

Ode to a Fossa Septica

O, wondrous tanks I see

Work your magic when I pee

Hidden under limey loam

Grey, ivory, plastic, foam

Trio of tapas cover all

No need to lift until the Fall

We can’t see your inner world

None wish to see the innards curl’d

Now my lucky fingers cross

The cost won’t feel a total loss

Praying all will flow and go

As it all swirls down the bowl

So let the people do their best

The soft’ner, washer, all the rest

Send it down the deep, deep hole

And free me from my weekly dole