"I Have Visited Men's Rooms..."

I have visited men's rooms in several bars with the rows of urinals like old men and the six-sided odor of disinfectant.

I have felt the sadness of the small white tiles, of the repeated shapes and the unavoidable whiteness.

I have understood that some afternoon when it rains and the streets blacken with umbrellas, a white army from all of the men's rooms will gather in the streets and block traffic in the city squares. They will complain of the sadness of things as they are.

I have decided that later when signs reflect in reverse on the wet pavements, they will return to the bars like shiny sheep dragging their plumbing behind them.