Friday, January 8, 2016

NYT’s 52 Places to Go in 2016

Oh, the places I’ll go:
An empty beer bottle
ala Dumb and Dumber.
Your face and tummy
as I straddle you
in my dirty tub.
Monica’s leg after the jelly fish debacle.
Like a race-horse at the derby,
behind the bleachers
after too many mint juleps.
Along a fence,
against you and you and you
because it’s a contest
and Im in it to win it.
in her Chanel purse because she pissed me off.
on his printer because he pissed me off.
on his lap top because he still pisses me off.
in a fitting room because that dress made me look fat,
not the other way around.
in elevators with broken cameras
in your soup because you were rude to your wife
in my neighbor’s litter box because her meows kept
me up all night.
in my bed, when I’ve lost my dignity
and I need to be redeemed.
on the curb next to the goldendoodle
because he is too fricken cute.
in a hospital bathroom, only meant for patients.
in your Park Ave bathroom
after scrutinizing the contents
of your medicine cabinet
and forming judgements.
in an ocean of suffering
arousing the appetite of sharks
and the sympathy of dolphins.
in a beach restroom stall,
tiles slippery with sand
wonder why the temp of my piss
can steep ten cups of tea.
At an airport,
long lines and travel jitters.
and then on the airplane,
just before landing.
in my lover’s bathroom,
quietly in the dark,
while he sleeps near by.
in my bathroom, 
because it is home.

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