Two men alone in a locker room

I slip in light, on soccer feet

Unnoticed

For a brusque, wide legged mans piss

In a mans world

He has red hair, red blotches

He is no Leonardo and no athlete

And he is flexing a small hard lump

Of albino bicep

In the puny fluorescent mirror

Posing

I make much drama

With a noisy paper towel machine

And then I slide away

For some reason

More embarrassed than he.