Bad Poem I Wrote For Bad Poetry Day. Which Was Yesterday.

To a Urine I Tested When Other Kristin Was Showing Me How To  Use The ICHEM.

Oh urine,

In your cup.

In the the biohazard bag.

In the bucket.

Waiting to be analyzed.


the hell

doesn’t understand the workings

of your simple lid

and how to tighten it?

Many More People

Than You Might Think.

I think

As I reach in the bag

To retrieve you.

I pour you into a clear tube

And hold you up to the light

Like some horrible Chardonnay

Or beer with foam on it.

You are hazy, like a summer’s day

And smell like a Locker Room

From My Junior High years.

After I have dipped the Stick

And put you On the Iris

Which is a Pain In the Ass

I think:

There is Urine On My Gloves.

Ew, I Whisper.

I Need To Change My Gloves.