Bathroom reading is very important in my house. I have been reduced to reading the backs of toothpaste tubes before, but I try to avoid such drastic measures in my own home. Because I accidentally read some of the articles once in the ever present Reader's Digests at my parent's, I can not supply myself with that monthly collection of entertaining anecdotes, kitty rescue stories and appalling conservative rhetoric.
I've been supplying my bathroom with soduku books from christmases (two books. two christmases.), but sometimes little numbers are just not satisfying. Also, sometimes you are a little tipsy and those grids get much harder.
So I've moved my Anthology of Modern American Poetry edited by Cary Nelson to the back of the toilet and I plan to read it cover to cover over the next year (this timeline may be revised). If you are in my bathroom, please feel free to read a poem, but don't move my bookmark! (also feel free to read my bookmark. It is a tiny chap book.)
First up: Walt Whitman. Excellent beginning.