Grow Taller Poem by John W. McEwers

If there was one thing
just one
that I would like to be
it would be nice
to grow taller.

I know my growing days
are done, and I know,
genetics have won,
but like the lowest rose
I yearn to reach sun.

The sights from 5'9'
are fine most of the time
but then a seven-footer
steps into the room
and all of its faces
turn to this, the tallest one.

I think from up there
I'd dominate
and be dominant
with women, not just
corner-standing
twitchy-handing
John.

I'd talk
I'd walk
like a star
like I tanned in a bed
and slept
with a supermodel's head
tucked neatly, cutely
on each arm.

I'd seduce like a tiger
and be even bigger
than the stars.

So give me some tall juice,
my universe,
and bring justice
to a man so bruised.

Give me more height
so that tall women will dance with me
because they have great legs
and I'm a leg man, ladies.