THE HANGOVER by Andrew Freiman
The floor of this bathroom is so comfortable.
It’s really spacious too. I never knew that I could lie down
like this, with my head near the toilet,
my arms stretching around the back through
ass filth and innumerable pubic hairs (from already
forgotten faces). But I can. And I do.
I feel like a princess here.
The queen of the Nile smelling urine while trying to vomit.
I move my body as though trying to
communicate, through singing, with the
other side of the world.
(Honestly, this place is beautiful. It’s quiet here,
and cool against the tile.)
Kim Jong Il has his ear pressed to a urinal
trying to hear my love song for him.
The only difference is that his urinal is made out of gold.
//ww
It’s really spacious too. I never knew that I could lie down
like this, with my head near the toilet,
my arms stretching around the back through
ass filth and innumerable pubic hairs (from already
forgotten faces). But I can. And I do.
I feel like a princess here.
The queen of the Nile smelling urine while trying to vomit.
I move my body as though trying to
communicate, through singing, with the
other side of the world.
(Honestly, this place is beautiful. It’s quiet here,
and cool against the tile.)
Kim Jong Il has his ear pressed to a urinal
trying to hear my love song for him.
The only difference is that his urinal is made out of gold.
//ww