Poem: At The Urinal

A poem about taking a piss (but not taking the piss)

I was standing there — which is,
of course, how it starts and what
you do. But I wasn’t wearing
any shoes. A bit gross, but I couldn’t

play drums in footwear back then,
and I had this trick where I’d sneak off
during the long-intro songs, get
a beer, take a piss… A guy I knew from

many years earlier called me a disgrace;
said “look at you fool, you were once the
great hockey player and now just look
at your dishevelment…”

He went on a rant about having good
shoes; said his were worth more than
my life. “Not now”, I replied. My steady
stream licking all about his laces.