I’ve got this portable rod in my bag
with a platform and a hat.
It allows me to stand off from myself
and to point to this and that.
I’m apt to use it a bit more often
than I’m apt to use my name.
It stands up for me so frequently,
folks often assume we’re the same.
It’s a measuring staff. I use it
to find out just how tall I am.
On its side it becomes a barbell
or a handy battering ram.
It’s much as if I were born with it –
we breathe in and out the same air,
though when I’m fair, it tends to run foul;
when I'm foul, it tends to run fair.
I call it mine, but I keep it at bay
lest it hog my share of breath.
It doesn’t much notice who I am,
nor will it take part in my death.