I hope you will believe me when I say that I am not naturally inclined towards material of a scatological nature. No doubt my wife would disagree; all I can say in my defence is that I have never sought out culture of this kind, but that – being an expert of obscure European literature – I find it inevitably surfaces, as doth the stubborn turd, from time to time.
To put it another way, I’d rather not dwell on the relationship between defecation and creativity, were it not that I felt duty bound, on occasion, to do just that.
This is undoubtedly one of those occasions. After all, anyone who has read the latest published excerpt from my ground-breaking memoirs will have noticed that an entire section was devoted to this very indelicate subject. The subject, that is, of reading ‘in lavatorio’, also known as ‘bogging’, ‘restroomeading’, and ‘shiterature’. In short, letting the words go in whilst the waste goes out (and the curious benefits therewith).
Today, however, I would like to shift the focus onto a second form of defecatory creativity, which, for the purposes of this discussion, we may as well call ‘urinal reading’.
One’s regular sojourn to the standard urinal does not last terribly long: this much we know. Hardly long enough, you’d fancy, to get any serious reading done. Where there’s a challenge, though, there’s almost always an obscure European writer willing to take on that challenge. Enter, in this case, Egor Falastrom, author of the vaguely popular Dark Dreams of Delirious Dog-Catcher (and like-minded titles). Seeing a gap in the market, Falastrom has just released a series of poems designed to be read whilst standing at an urinal. Poems for Pissing, by all accounts, is already something of a success in his native country. ‘Falastrom has transformed the very nature of a piss,’ writes one critic, ‘changing it from a rather tedious task to a moment of transcendent, gushing, illumination’. For the first time in local history, men have been seen queuing for the toilet.
As for women, well, it seems they will have to wait. As yet, Falastrom is only posting his poems above urinals. He hopes to expand the art form, however, before too long. ‘I see myself, in future, on the back of all toilet doors in Turkey’, he told one magazine. Does this mean that he will be competing with Tosca Calbirro, originator of the toilet-paper novel? Not at all, claims Falastrom. His poems are designed for ‘pissing people only’. The ‘poo form’ he leaves to other, more experienced, practitioners.