If they made a statue in my name
it would probably
be a mere five feet tall
or under
and shit upon by pigeons
and crows, like all other
statues, but they won’t
build me in bronze or marble
or granite, so I won’t look
any special, covered in
bird shit. Those honours
are reserved for special
men; honorable men;
men unrecognizable to the average
squatter on the sidewalk.
Those who have lost the ability
to stand up straight, can hardly
expect a very tall memorial.