I wash my hair
I wash my face
I wash my body all over the place
And when I reach that one spot, there…
There’s always a glob of hair.
As the shampoo rinses
From each long tress
Some falls from my head in a graceful mess
I don’t notice it trail right down my back
And settle in my ass crack.
Once it reaches
It jumbles into a knotty formation
And bids goodbye to my crowning dome
As it settles in its new home.
My hands move down
In a cleansing technique
Soapy, they slip between my cheeks
I pull something strange from the dark abyss
And ask, “What the fuck is this?”
I run my hand under
The hot, moist rain
And watch as the glob snakes down the drain
I stand there alone in the steamy fog…
And just pray it doesn’t clog.Stumble it!