by Matthew Sanborn Smith
Pissin' feels so great
That I can hardly wait
To drain my six-inch vein*
Of that which causes my bladder such pain.
I love to fill the toilet,
But I never miss, cause that would spoil it.
With colors of brilliant liquid gold
I paint the inside of that bowl.
Now quite relieved, my legs collapse.
But I'll strike again, tomorrow perhaps!
I love my urine and it loves me,
but there's nothing I like better than a nice, long pee.
*(I wrote this poem as a teenager (like you couldn't tell) and the second half of this line originally read, "eleven-inch vein." Years later I got real and changed it. I'm willing to fess up. Are you?)