Letter to a Doorman

What do you hold in there
with all that muscle and years of hard eating
fat and gristle? So why hide it?
Why let it get in the way of progress?
Put off the timid?
Only let the sports stars in

Only let the rock stars in
Only let the in people in
because they are in
because you let them in 
you are in  control you are the doorman

when all my electrics go haywire
when the aerials are jammed down drains
broken chrome flakes of plating
peeling in the cold breeze
flickering as it could dancing with the sunlight
and blinding the driver that then hit the cyclist
doing 90 around
the roundabout it round about it
around the roundabout

never the liquid absolved symphony wrapped in danger
the tall strangers wearing top hats called in muffled whispers
of your demise as they spoke they dripped with innocence
reassuringly final gripping a roll of documents dear life depending on it
the widow stands in the street lights
her hands claw the night time
the man stands at the door and speaks into a concealed microphone

and the parcel is delivered
to the right person


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