a ring on the bell
who is it now
count kids off one, two, three
dinner on the stove
ready to boil
balls going like missiles
'cross loungeroom
down hall
still ringing the bell
"coming" I shout
.
a stranger in blue
with lanyard and pass
clipboard and flyers
"not interested"
words of power, gas and electricity
all to save save and save more
boil the pot over
slamming the door
.
not welcome sales strangers
we think not at the door
with pots on the stove
children running amok
go home to your own house
to the warmth of your food
where your love awaits you
.
friends come in and eat
drink at my table
join in our mess please
we have more than enough
In the dead of night
Doris was exhausted. It was now 4.38 am on the clock at the 24 hour MacDonalds in the centre of the city and her she was still awake because awake was safe. Her head was thumping, absolutely thumping from overtiredness and dehydration. The last drink she had was not long ago, sure, she could still smell it on her own breath. The nice man, well boy really, who called himself Joe, had found her sitting on the sidewalk with a box of white wine – a nice drop too she thought. When she offered him a drink and little bit of a fun time for the night, Joe suggested that he would shout her a fun time and a drink.
It was quite a to-do to get into Macca’s because Doris felt like her legs had gone to sleep and they just didn’t seem to be working so well now. Her heels seemed to have gotten a little wobbly during the night. The strong arm of Joe had been great in supporting her through the long walk to the end of the block and now she was in here, Doris, as she did like to be called now, felt quite weary. The weight of her head was increasing by the second as she waited for Joe to come back with the drinks and the stares of the staff bore through her like lasers. At least they would see her today. They all seemed to recognise Joe as though he were a regular.
A feeling of dread began to creep over Doris. What was his treat of fun for the night? Did it involve anymore than a drink at Macca’s? The weariness was lightening up as the flight instinct took over. No more shakiness in those old worn out legs for Doris. It was time to make a run for it.
It was quite a to-do to get into Macca’s because Doris felt like her legs had gone to sleep and they just didn’t seem to be working so well now. Her heels seemed to have gotten a little wobbly during the night. The strong arm of Joe had been great in supporting her through the long walk to the end of the block and now she was in here, Doris, as she did like to be called now, felt quite weary. The weight of her head was increasing by the second as she waited for Joe to come back with the drinks and the stares of the staff bore through her like lasers. At least they would see her today. They all seemed to recognise Joe as though he were a regular.
A feeling of dread began to creep over Doris. What was his treat of fun for the night? Did it involve anymore than a drink at Macca’s? The weariness was lightening up as the flight instinct took over. No more shakiness in those old worn out legs for Doris. It was time to make a run for it.
Subscribe to:
Posts (Atom)