J. Berk

I was really pissing it up


there I was

silently hosing down the urinal

safely surfing the multitudinal wave

of bought beers

painting a beautiful fresco

like El Greco

in my mind

on the porcelain

shell.

a stranger enters.

he laughs.

"are you pissing on the floor?" he asks.

"no," I say.

the truth.

"I was trying to write my

name on the urinal,"

I say.

a lie.

why I tell this lie

only God

and the bartender knows.

I guess I didn't wan't to say

I was pretending to be El Greco

in the toilet.

"well you were really pissing it up,"

he says.

"I was,"

I say.

the truth.

proud.

I was.

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