I Think She Needs a Sugar Daddy, Or At Least Someone with a Better Bathroom
by Francine DuBois

There's a ring around her toilet:
Not on the inside of the bowl.
No, on the floor, with residue marks from the last overflow
What she jokingly calls the Johnston flood
After her ex-boyfriend clogged the toilet.

Late at night, she gets a flashlight
And reads magazines under the sheets,
Pretending she's eight years old.

It helps the fantasy
That someday she'll have matching towels,
A toothbrush holder of platinum,
The designer soap made with oatmeal and chunky orange bits,
And luxurious eye cream in a mint-green canister.

Her Restoration Hardware catalog
Sticks together from hands
Wet with marshmallow fluff,
Another guilty pleasure from childhood
Back when she could really believe
Mr. Right existed and he'd give her a diamond ring
Not an everlasting circle of filth.

Francine's Version -- Hezekiah's Version -- Inspiration
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