build your plumber to flush
toilets with the lid closed,
to hide his shame from prying ears

build your plumber to plant
tulips on his neighbor’s doorstep
then wait to meet her with a smile
that hangs on a beat too long

build your plumber to jump
at coins to hoard in a safe-deposit box;
not even his wife has the code

build your plumber bigger
than his brothers, but softer
in the fleshy places, more prone
to cry when struck by words

build your plumber smaller
than the ashtrays he leaves behind
when chain-smoking through his crises
of European existentialism

or else, build your plumber
however you want; mine’s just me
with a fluffed mustache
and my three-foot vertical leap

bounding at the void
beyond the scrolling barrier,
laughing
in anticipation of the flagpole