Sunday, March 15, 2015

Bladder Blues

I wish I could be
a lot of things.
Some days I wish 
I could be a forensic scientist
and on others a pleasant dentist.
There are days I wish
I could play basketball professionally,
and on other days I day dream that
I could control rainbows mentally.
But of all the things I have wished
and yearned for speculatively,
there's one that rises to the top of my list
and that is to be able to freely pee!

(Today's poem is inspired by a find [below] in my archives from 2 years ago and the desire to bring it to life thanks to a lively "pee" conversation on "Pi" day)!

I went on a hike this weekend with my partner, father-in-law, and brother-in-law. In the shadow of the flatirons, we climbed rocks, talked about life, greeted the occasional canine friend who ambled by us with ease, lost our breaths, exchanged cursory pleasantries with all who passed us, braved some steep rocks, held each other up, shared water and snacks, and made some rather extraordinary memories.

Many times during the hike, we would pause and one of my compadres would declare that it was time to find a tree. “If you’re an American when you go to pee, what are you when you come back?” A “European”, I learned through rolling eyes and while walking through yet another “American” cultural doorway. There were many such tree stops where we altered our nationalities to fit closer to being   Eur-o-pean.

Each time, I couldn’t help but think to myself,   Man, I wish I were a man.  Or at the least, able to urinate with ease among trees. On the walk back to the trailhead, my thoughts remain preoccupied with the upright ease that men are afforded with and the discomfort of having to squat as a woman. And then it was suddenly time. The time had come for me to find a tree! I eagerly scouted the steep and rocky landscape with my eyes and each time, I failed to find a spot that would satisfy my bare bottom’s need for privacy.

It was a   long   way to comfort!

The immaculate Chautauqua landscape that makes it very hard to urinate.





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