D. C. Hope’s speaker visits the restrooms of bars and finds them quietly sorrowful: urinals lined up like old men, disinfectant in the air, and small white tiles repeating into blankness. That ordinariness turns surreal when the speaker imagines a white army of these fixtures gathering on a rainy afternoon, blocking traffic in the squares to complain “of the sadness / of things as they are.” It is a strange, almost absurd protest, but the feeling behind it is familiar—a low, tired disappointment with sameness and emptiness. By the end, the imagined army drifts back to the bars like shiny sheep dragging their plumbing, a deflating image that mixes humor with loneliness. The mood is melancholy, wry, and uncanny, making a mundane place feel alive with quiet dissatisfaction.
"I Have Visited Men's Rooms..." — Summary
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.