Poem
Behind Closed Doors
I’ve started a graffiti war in the toilet
of my local pub. It began innocently enough
with a short political statement, but now
it’s turned quite unpleasant. Several people
appear to be involved judging by the different
handwriting and various threats have been made,
as well as an insulting drawing of myself depicting
me as a Snake. The Landlady has tried painting
it over a couple of times, but it just starts up again
with increasing nastiness. She’s now thinking of
bringing the Police in, as the atmosphere in the pub
is quite tense.
