A short note on bathrooms, lines and feet.

You are a shrub, a cigarette bud – popular amongst the thieves the dark the drugged, the shaded circle – all of the above.

You are white, but the last to be seen of you is black. Smoke rises – dude that is whack.
I have a stain on my bathroom wall. A sterile locale – a place to clean up.
I have a stain on my red bathroom wall.
A flaw.
A reminder that where there is water there is also crap. Where the blemishes are concealed. The only place where my true self – tada – revealed.

The door is locked. Guess what is found inside?
Knock knock
Rapity rap rap rap
No answer.

What did you expect after a night like that?
You may bang at it all you like. There are no shortcuts, no sliding doors.

I’m sorry sir, but I will have to please ask you to wait at the end of the line.
And what a long line indeed – the family cry, and beg, and plead.
But still I stand and rise above from that rotten tub,
I stand and stare as filth is scrubbed.

There is a black stain in my swollen carcass. Double chambered, and pumping blood.
It keeps me alive
The darkness, it keeps me well, it keeps me immune,
It keeps me dumb.

Eye on the clock.
Door – did it finally yield? Unlock.

A smile steps out barefoot.
Apologize, apology – I must have nodded off. Apology apologize - for the heat, the smell, whatnot.