I do my best thinking in the bathroom.  Earlier this morning I was seated on the throne, contemplating.  My face was in my hands, my elbows were on my knees, the lights were off.  I was just sitting and thinking.  I stayed like that for two hours, at peace with the world.

I read an article in an obscure magazine in a so-called metaphysical bookstore which explained why people think so well in the bathroom.  I know it’s a little odd to think that there could be a legitimate physical explanation as to why our minds spin better while showering or performing our other bathroom rituals, but experience dictates that there must be something going on.

According to the article, there are physical properties—presumably the unsuspected by-products of the peculiar combinations of plumbing, electrical wiring, and porcelain contained therein—properties which bring together the flow of Earth Energy or Terrestrial Chi, aligning these powerful forces with our own consciousnesses.  Apparently, the term ‘think tank’ was coined by members of the Illuminati who possessed this privilaged knowledge and who worked to build such tanks based upon these ancient principles.

For myself, my best poetry has been composed while covered in sweet smelling suds.  Trouble is, I’ve neither been able to commit these magnificent compositions to memory nor get them written down before they’ve lost their luster—pfff… before they’ve lost their coherence.

It is a dangerous place to begin one’s day, the bathroom.  Delusions of grandeur abound between its small walls.

I’ve been thinking that perhaps I shoulld move one of my computers into my bathroom so that I could compose from the throne.

Look for better things to come…