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 -

I looked down.

I was still pissing. 

Fuck sake.