Motel Shower

I have been dabbling in writing poetry for almost a year now. I like it because it relaxes me and lets me get my thoughts out onto paper (or in this case the internet). I like it because there are so many different forms and there is no “correct” way to say anything. This clearly isn’t my first post about poetry, and it certainly won’t be my last either.

Inspired by the Daily Post and because it’s National Poetry Writing Month, here’s another.

Small, isn’t it?

Or I’m just too tall.

And a hairy plug hole,

water drains slow.

Head won’t stay up.

Ouch, way too hot!

Now ffffreezing fucking cold!

Mildew on the curtain,

sticking to my ass.

Bumping my elbow

and my knee

and my other elbow.

Water slows to a dribble.

Christ, I just want to shower.

Nozzle gets stuck

then falls off,

hits my foot.

Shit. Fuck. Damn.

I slip.

Tiny bottle,

no shampoo left.

Why did I bother?

Now, where’s my towel?

Thanks for reading!

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