Composting Toilet Poem

i'm reading "the self sufficient life and how to live it: the complete back to basics guide" by John Seymour and in it he has a poem about his composting toilet which was just too hilarious. all joking aside this is a really great book!

Our Marvelous Thunderbox "Loo"
now the human being is a very strange beast with capabilities good and bad
not frightened of nature, no not in the least our follies are often quite mad
the toilet that flushes fills our souls with glee
a brainwave by Thomas Crapper
mixes shit with clean water and pours out to sea
as if the dirt did not matter

out of sight, out of mind, much shoots down the pipes
an incredible fabric of magic
squandering food for the soil as the water we spoil
it's a tale that is terribly tragic

but all is not lost for at a marginal cost
another solution comes easy
the composting loo; yes that's our riposte
and your tummy need not feel to queasy

the vent goes up high, sending gas to the skies
and the lid fits snug so no entry to flies
two years it will take, our compost to make
and our river's not sorry the flush to forsake
no water, no tricks--it's all built with bricks
the shit and the kitchen waste too
all go together making food for the soil
in our marvelous Thunderbox loo