helping men
in public places
so it was new year’s eve
and we were standing on
forty-second street and
the avenue of the americas
we were a few blocks away
but we had just the right
view of times square. and
yes, there was freezing rain
but i didn’t really care, since
i was just in new york for
a few days. it was 10:55, we
still had a long time to wait
standing with i don’t know
how many thousands of other
people, some of them were
climbing up the light poles,
all of us pushing forward
into the street, despite the
police officers on horseback
rushing at us back toward
the sidewalk. and our paper
bag fell apart in the rain, so
i let the glass water bottle fall
to the curb, and our friend told
us he needed to go to the
bathroom real bad, you know,
so i told him to go right here
in the street, no one will see
him. but he didn’t want to
piss on someone’s shoes, so
he asked if i had a bottle, so i
picked up the water bottle from
the curb, and when he finished
his job he closed up the bottle
and put it back on the sidewalk.
god, and you, too, getting on
the train after the ball dropped,
more rain and a bottle of
champagne later, saying you had
to go real bad, too, so i pulled
an empty beer bottle from my
coat pocket, you covered the train
window with your coat and i
blocked your view from the aisle
while you took care of the
matter at hand. i’m amazed that
that bottle didn’t tip over on the
train floor during that hour
commute, our first of the new
year, while i slept on your
shoulder. and i’m amazed that
i ended one year and began
another helping men i know,
in public places, piss into bottles.


Copyright Janet Kuypers.
All rights reserved. No material
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