Down the hall
murmurs words of whispered
I can’t quite hear.
The house is supposed to be
so I stalk the sound
searching for chatty intruders
their sibilant sussurance
strangely assured for the late hour
and their uninvited status.
In the bathroom,
it comes clear:
the toilet’s talking
A lonely toilet. Writing a poem?
I’m taking dictation from the plumbing, it seems!
Lovely. Sibilant sussurance strangely assured. I read that out loud. Brilliant tongue twister.
to itself – in need of plumbing?
At least an adjustment, I guess!
Water, water everywhere, though hopefully not on the floor.
No, not this time. 🙂
Mine screaming and vomitous
Oh dear! That’s not good! 😦