Some might consider shopping to be part of a woman’s DNA. Others might consider this assumption to be sexist. All I know, that as a man, it’s definitely not part of mine. In fact, I have an immediate physical reaction every time I enter a store. Here’s another example of a poem in the dubious category of “In Questionable Bad Taste,” that might be considered the body function sequel to “Art Makes Me Fart”(Post #676.) You be the judge:

Men’s Room 

A phenomenon occurs,
When I try to shop.
A paralyzing urge,
That just won’t stop.

It happens every time,
So something’s wrong.
As I step in any store,
It’s like I don’t belong.

Before I get my cart,
I find the Men’s Room sign.
Or ask for the key,
In the check-out line.

If I try to resist,
My bladder will insist.
It’s the first thing,
On my shopping list.

It could be,
An allergic reaction.
Since I have to hurry,
Take immediate action.

My output valve,
Must be emptied.
Before I can fulfill,
Any purchase need.

Before I even start,
It’s pre-buyer’s remorse.
The rest room calls,
And nature takes its course.

It’s a sense of panic,
As I walk in the door.
A cruel joke,
I can’t ignore.

And just when I think,
It’s safe to begin.
I often need
To Go again.

It must be,
Some kind of disease.
Shopping for me,
Is spelled with two pees.

Copyright 2018 johnstonwrites.com