It doesn’t matter

It doesn’t matter

How tall you are,

A stand-up guy

Straight as a die

Dignified

Urbane or matter-of-fact,

When the camera is stuck

Up your digestive tract

To rummage around inside

We are all the same.

It’s a knock-out

We might vomit

Or soil the bed

God alone knows

We have no control.

If I’m honest

It can be wonderful

For a moment

To give it away

To be held

Looked after

Attended.

Coming home

Is reclamation

Woozy or not

I shake the tree

To see if I fall out

I decide to

Be assertive

Paint my insides red

Spill the wine

Drink shiraz

It is my prerogative.

I file the images away

A record of my stay

And hum a sad song

For the memory

Of times before

Reminiscence was a thing.

When I stood tall

Braced against the wind

And I would sway

Foolish enough

To believe

I would beat

Whatever came along

If only that were true.

I take another sip,

Heaven in a glass

And tip my hat

To the future

It is out there

Somewhere.