Words Lie in Praise of Their Upstanding Maker

Sit with, stand with, withstand, withstood.
Understood? We couldn’t stand it,
But somehow you could. We would lie

Under the pressure of standing
Against anything, everything,
The relentless mass of it all,

But you stood up and started
Counting, stood up to be counted—
What an upstanding metaphor.

Except you weren’t a metaphor.
You were the real deal, animal,
Bipedal, while we were the lies

You dealt out and left behind you,
Your layers, your stratigraphy,
Your lines and lines and lines of signs.