When The Carpenters turn up

THE WRITER’S LIFE | POETRY

I prefer doorways to doors, things which hold others, yet with no equal reason for being there. I favour skirting boards to taking the floor; and here I am, foot in hand, talking to my door about why I don’t like it. Talking to myself and feeling old:

I find doors difficult to walk through, like Patrick Swayze did in Ghost
People knock on doors
Many doors are closed when I’m awake
People don’t hold doors open much now
Apart from garage doors, all are ‘Push’ or ‘Pull’. None say ‘Lift from the bottom’
If you leave a door open, anyone can get in. If the door’s not there, you’re equal
Doors with locks are a human construct

I fear the next shit sandwich through the letterbox. If I only had a dog. It’s a frame of mind I’m in…

Dogs and DoorsImage: Lawrence Manning, from OzTypewriter, The Wonderfull World of Typewriters (blog)

This was actually prompted (perhaps a coping mechanism) by a particularly nasty individual it wasn’t my pleasure to encounter on Twitter during a debate about Brexit:

Fascist Twitter

Cats scratch, carpenters carve. I wasn’t going to be so short-sighted as to wish them a slow and painful death in return, so I let them have the last word. Better to knit rope than go fishing. While the fishermen of ancient Britain gained the family name of Fisher, Lakers sat on the banks and made nets. Possibly.

Rebuilding this planet will require not just carpenters but many trades, or possibly occupants of interplanetary craft

Who’s afraid of Paula Nancy Millstone Jennings?

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