For every man there comes a day
When he must expel waste
And, being in a hurry,
Seeks to urinate with haste.
Soon after, they discover
As their throat fill up with phlegm
That their quest will be a failure…
Someone’s peeing next to them.
They stand in awkward silence,
As the urinals don’t sing
For as much as they both need to
They cannot eject a thing
And thus they close their zippers
And proceed to wash their hands
And go on with screaming bladders
To fulfill their life’s demands.
The Daily Travesty 