Pissing through thought

I've really got to Pee.
I thought I'd indulge in the physical pangs
my drive to release myself, as
torturous as that seems.

I wish happiness, generosity, creation
came as demanding as
the insatiable quest to pee. Imagining--
restrooms crafted as libraries, kitchens open at all hours
because people just had to read, had to feed others
had to give their mind indulgence.

I live in these humorous similes, because when i do
life makes sense, all too much sense really, like a
wide angle shot of how easy, painless
happiness could really be
if only we lived, or possessed urgencys to create
like biological drives to pee.