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.

Who-

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.

Pronto.