Poem #1: Pipes


I was in the gents.
As you do.
When I became aware of the sound of a hissing pipe.




But here's the thing:


The pipe started hissing when I started pissing.
And the pipe stopped hissing when I stopped pissing.


Afterwards, as I washed my hands,
I paused, and thought:


That hissing, 
While I was pissing...
Was that hissing pipe my own piss-pipe hissing?


I dried my hands. 
But instead of leaving the bathroom,
I stood still. Still and silent.


And I listened.


I - there it was! The hissing. 
It was still going!
Well if it’s still going now, I reasoned,
It couldn’t possibly be coming from my -


Wait.
I looked down.


I was still pissing. 

Fuck sake.