The toilet completed its flush.
I stepped away to avoid the backlash
and chuckled: resultant of the fish shaped loo cube.
It had fins
and a general aura
that told me things would be alright for a while.
I mentored my limbs towards the kitchen.
A banana glanced at me
then ripened under the gaze of my crazy eyes.
Alternative rock played on the radio
and I retuned it, looking for an alternative.
The National. Nice!
I settled with a beer
and after five minutes, got up.
I was back in the toilet
howling like a madman at the eroded little fish.
Things were alright.