As soon as I get to the urinal
the same door I walked through
opens and shuts orangely.
They walk down the urinal row
and stand directly behind me.
Fingers touch my shoulders.
I turn and grab the collar
of their shirt
my right hand in a fist.
It’s a squat woman
not irregular looking,
but ugly with the sad
longing eyes of a woman
who had been fat all her life
no matter what supplements
she had taken or diets she had
followed for eight day
stretches.
The sadness in her
was the same
sadness and self loathing
I’ve seen in many people
where they were just
a slave to the food.
We all are slaves
to something
but their master was
particularly cruel.
Can I help you?
I need somebody.
What?
I need you. I need you.
I need somebody. Need.
What’s wrong, ma’am?
She pushed me backwards
into the stall and began
rubbing herself on me.
I push her away but she
comes back murmuring
and needing.
I try to be gentle, in pushing her
but she won’t stop.
She lifts up her skirt
and shows it to me.
Two more women walk in.
Get the fuck away from me!
I watched you come in here,
she said.
Get off!
I shoved her hard against
the wall.
The other two women
look at her with disgust
and tell her to cover herself up.
She backs out of the bathroom
sadder than she was when
she came in.
Sadder now, I imagine
than she’s ever been.
I feel a strange guilt.
Each of the other women
take the stalls to my
left and right.
I began to urinate and ruminate
and I’m thankful they came in
when they did.
Now I know how you guys feel,
I say.
Oh, honey. No you don’t.
one of them says.
I squeeze the last few pumps
of urine out.
Shake it.
Zip up.
Dribble down my leg
and take a step away
from the urinals.
For the first time
I realize they are pissing too
That they are even in here.
Legs hiked up,
skirts over asses.
I leave the bathroom
and get in the short line
behind a Jew
and a Polock.
When they are done
and out into their worlds
never to be seen
by me again in this lifetime
I order a salmon bagel.
Hold the capers.
Hold the labia.
territorial pissings.