A Quick Slice of Poetry #14 - The Doorman

The Doorman

I can smell the fear
I hear him sneer and jeer
He stinks of beer
I look past the frown and try to calm him down
He turns away, I hear him say "it's not your day"
He gives a little sway
Then spinning back for his first attack
He's far too slow, the glancing blow was low, let's go
No go to flight, but to fight
It feels right
Another blight on another night
I don't wait, I feel no hate
This is fate.
My mind is in a perfect state.
My first stike is high, I catch his eye
The second flows and I burst his nose
A quick step back then quicker in, as my elbow contacts with his chin
He doesn't see the rising knee
He doesn't have the brains to flee
I pick him up from off the floor
And walk him swiftly out the door
I am
The doorman
Nothing personal
Just doing my job
Have a good evening

A.T.G