9.18.2012

Human Fire Hydrant

I swear they do it on purpose--
little hints left
for the next female guest
staking some sort of claim
though it's pointless.

Bachelor X plucks a hair
from the bathroom sink
but misses the clip
behind the soap dish.
Healthcare Professional Z
(since they always are anymore)
knows where to look
finds artifact/evidence/marker
and is left with two options:
ask Bachelor X now
or wait until he's down.
The veterans go for the latter.

Bachelor X can't tell you
how many straggling bobby pins
he's thrown away over years
which is odd since he rarely
sees them removed.
He used to leave them around
for awhile, a faint female touch
in an otherwise dank lair
reeking of testosterone
but their perches on windowsills
bookshelves, and in the medicine cabinet
soon became points of contention.
They can't be pawned off.
The girls know the difference.
The tokens had to go
which was hard
since he barely
noticed them any longer.

But in the morning
when they slink
for fear of the awkward
dodging of breakfast
all that matters
is that priceless stretch
revealing cool, untouched
bedsheet real estate
that lulls him back to sleep
in a dream that's free of nurses
and other folks bent
on saving the damned.

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