​The unisex public restroom, a Cirque du Soliele show of microscopic organisms. For years, I imagined bacteria that could run, jump, pole vault, even breast stroke against a stream of urine. But before you sign me up for germaphobics anonymous, allow me to make an admission.

As you may or may not know, I've been performing once a month with the remarkable Poetry Brothel. When I first came on board, I searched my memory for early experiences with poetry, and sadly found it as dry as the desert I come from.

This morning, after brushing my teeth and admiring my nostrils, I recalled a poem from high school. Somewhere between my morning acne medication and afternoon baseball practice, I read a poem that would stick with me, and find it's way onto the future weblog you're currently reading.