The hand-soap dispenser
hair-trigger, spat out
a jet-force shot - splurt
off the palm of my hand
and now I've got an eyeful:
in the mirror, I can see my shirt and tie,
stained with a wet, pearly pink ribbon
of sanitizing, chemical-scented jism
curling and dripping. So: maybe
I pulled the lever too fast.
But come on.
They
really
need to look
at re-angling
that
spout.
1 comment:
Aw dammit, I was gonna write a poem about that pink soap! I think it smells like marzipan.
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