peeing into the bathroom sink rather nonchalantly;
what the hell, it's a cheap motel room,
the maids clean it
at least once a day,
depending on what sort of vermin
it housed;
and he will soon be far away,
his urine stains
long dissipated
by Clorox,
and all signs of his visit, vanished;
along with his fake name and
phony address;
yesterday's condom,
now covered with tissues,
cigarette butts,
and food wrappers.

little that we expect is permanent,
actually is,
and what we expect is disposed,
really is;

whatever --

besides, right now,
he has to write something

December 25, 2008

Copyright © 2008, Ricky A. Pursley. All rights reserved.

No comments:

Post a Comment