Translation
As the toilet bubbles a brown liquid back to the rim, I holler through the bathroom wall to my roommate for the towels. The shower, puddle growing to the door, can't drain. This isn't a third world, but reminds me of Haiti in the lack of showers, toilets, English. It's just older pipes, and not English. Not different, original. Another writes of flowers bursting through concrete, it's just age. Like wrinkles, we fight the inevitable, the destruction of ourselves.
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