Only big boys are allowed
to do that. The trick is not
to look down but straight
ahead, as if one were riding
a bicycle hands-free.
Big boys don’t get wee
on their hands, they know
how to shoot straight too.
I learned this early pissing
at the urinal.
When my dad visited Heaven
in the 1980s he told me
he saw mirrors in the john,
as if the penis might want
to face itself as it did its dirty
work. There are no mirrors
nowadays (alas), but sometimes
the kids who were big enough
might stretch and stand on
tiptoe, as if trying out for Giselle
in Swan Lake. I was one of those
boys once, doing my best to
reach the urinal so I could be
the same as the older men.
I’d stand upright,
unbutton my zip, and with
some exertion, and smiling
at my father, I’d piss into the
waiting ceramic lip.
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