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Poem: Close the Gate

By dlindorff - Posted on 09 August 2014

Close the gate

I’m tired.

Don’t visit,

I’m not home.

Why should I have to explain?

Now you show up.

I hear your voices.

You come in a group.

You turn on the tap.

I hear the squeak of the faucet.

I hear the water running

Through the pipes.

I go to the door.

There are a lot of you.

Go away.

Can’t you see I’m busy?

I’m working on something.

I can’t be disturbed.

Follow that path

Through the garden.

Close the gate...


For the rest of this new poem by GARY LINDORFF, poet-in-residence at ThisCantBeHappening, the new uncompromising four-time Project Censored Award-winning online alternative newspaper, please go to:



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