No Paper Towels

Four hard walls containing
Dank and draining to the sewer
Neutral colored barriers, the perfect height for peeping Toms
Gossip tattooed to the front door consuming us with its rumors
Made up of used ink and unfriendly notions from tattle-tales
Trying to unlock the gutters potential, freeing yourself from your claustrophobia
Remembering the hassles of flushing your headway away
Sneaking past the sink to wash your red hands
Caught without a bark
But a machine of heat that changes the exposure to air
Sent down by the ruthless septic gods
Never drying