Poetry Dispatch No.92 | July 25, 2006
Bathrooms by Elisabeth Kuhn
The condo I just bought has two. Some houses
had three. What to do with them all? Use one?
Turn the others into extra closets?
Reserve one for guests? There are none
I’d invite. I talk too much to too
many people all day. On conference
weekends I have to talk Sundays too,
and when I close my door, I want silence.
Back home we were seven. Our bathroom the only
room we could lock in a house without keys.
We’d sit, read, dream, alone, not lonely,
until testy banging disturbed our peace.
Then we’d sigh, flush, put down our text,
and turn our sanctuary over to the next.
from Average C-Cup. © Turning Point.