David Finkelstein

Journal entry

Shower

The drizzle, the fizzle, the buzz,

The running, the dripping, the splatter,

The massage of the water, hitting your back,

With s gentle, but slightly firm sting,

The shower-head stares, right into your eyes,

And you hold that gaze, unwavering,

The water, un-tasted, falls into your mouth,

And baths the rest of your body,

As the soap foams, and covers your skin,

In a thinning white bubbly coat,

As the water cascades, down onto the foam,

The bubbles disperse and run down to your toes,

Carrying the dirt, down along to the drain,

To be washed away to the ocean,

Or maybe out to sea, making for cleaner,

Shinier fish, and maybe not so ugly,

Will be those sharks, with their many rows,

Of pointy teeth, threatening to rip out,

Your vulnerable, fleshy throat. ●