Soup of the Day is Pea

I hate peeing in cups.

I get pee-nile dysfunction.

There’s nothing worse than the pressure

of an uncooperative bladder refusing

to stream on demand.

Sometimes no cup is required at all.

A lover once wanted a golden shower.

I found it bizarre—this obscenely

intimate act. The first time was the most

awkward, as cherry pops often are. I hovered

on bent haunches over his expectant

torso—to the sound of crickets.

He told me to relax.

Next time his cock refuses

to play ball, I’ll coo ever-

so-helpfully into his ear:

just relax.