In slumber, ever inviting
The planter calls
My bladder twitches
Sphincters sleep on watch
The planter hails
My bladder chortles
Salty waste flows
Spreading on flannel
Such warmth, such solace
Guilt floods the senses
Mocking my disgust
So itchy, so cold
3 comments:
this should be on that spoken word tape you and sarah made. or am i making that up?
You are correct, MegPie. It is not unlike "Fag Bags". Perhaps we shall add Pee Poetry to the Fag Bags tape when I am next in Chicago. Thank you for your suggestion.
awesome! i love when you call me meg pie. i feel so cute and adorable.
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