An Almost Autobiographical Essay in 96 Words

I have a bladder full of urgency, but Amishmen are every where, grinders shooting sparks and starting fires in the straw. Usual piss spots are being traipsed across by young men whose beards, suspenders, and worth ethics put hipsters to shame, but I’m in dire straits. My urethra is twisted up like a dehydrated earthworm when I give in at an intersection of wall and silo, hoping for thirty seconds. He walks around the corner with a clipboard and comes up short when he sees me squatting. Our eyes connect, each measuring the other’s loss of modesty.

Advertisements

Leave a Reply

Fill in your details below or click an icon to log in:

WordPress.com Logo

You are commenting using your WordPress.com account. Log Out / Change )

Twitter picture

You are commenting using your Twitter account. Log Out / Change )

Facebook photo

You are commenting using your Facebook account. Log Out / Change )

Google+ photo

You are commenting using your Google+ account. Log Out / Change )

Connecting to %s