Porte Parole


The unhinged door has no loose screws,

Nor can it be silenced with lubricating oil

Or locked away or painted over in an effort

To hide by camouflage, because the ope

Speaks in volumes of metaphorical meanings

And nobody gets any satisfaction by spying

Through the peephole. Nor has it accepted

Being contained to that same repetitious arc

As all the other Porte Entrees. Occasionally

It was left ajar as though it was some token

Of liberty. Freedom is the illusion whereby

A mirage creates an image, but don’t blink.