ONCE YOU HAVE PEED YOUR PANTS IN FRONT OF MOST OF YOUR FRIENDS ❋ Mary Boo Anderson

I am a small dog peeing on the streets of Manhattan, reflexively kicking my legs on the concrete
to cover my mess with dirt that isn’t there.

“How many colonialists does it take to transform soil into cement?”

I told that joke once and no one laughed, probably because it doesn’t have a punch line, just
punch. I can feel it in my stomach when I’m at work, on excel, on my 3rd screen, on my 4th cup
of coffee.

I started doing jumping jacks in front of my standing desk.
People thought it was weird, then they got used to it.

I started slam dancing in the work kitchen.
Sometimes things fell.
Never the things I wish would.
People thought it was weird, then they got used to it.

I peed my pants at my desk once.
Claiming territory I want nothing to do with.

I stayed till 6 and pretended to work as usual.
The piss sank into the grey carpet.
And the stench formed a grey cloud over the open office layout.
Time passed as I watched my boss walk over to my desk to offer me a promotion.