Hung By The Neck . . . 
May 26 2015


Doorknobs
pass hand-to-hand,

like batons

in a marathon relay.

Constant use

has burnished them smooth,
the dull patina
of sweat, and skin
and manly grips
and grand dramatic entrances.

And we all know what it means, wink-wink
when a tie dangles

the key's been changed.

When the card proclaims

"Do Not Disturb”

in its demur, but certain, way.

Although here, in my shuttered garret
I never see it turn;
if impervious
at least free of germs.

The perfect spot
to toss my jacket
when I return.
Where it's hung by the neck;
soft cloth

lightly propped

atop the gentle curve.

But levers

work better than knobs.
Where hands full
you can elbow or knee
and shoulder in.

No dead-bolt locks
or awkward pause.

No dead-fish handshake
sweaty palms.

No many-roomed mansion
whose keys I've lost.

A kind of stream-of-consciousness effort that doesn't really go anywhere, or necessarily say anything coherent. It's more of a jumble of false starts and whimsical word play.

The one imperative I had in mind was my aversion to doorknobs (as well as other public surfaces, like washroom faucets and office banisters, or social niceties like the conventional handshake). I'm definitely a germophobe when it comes to touch. I'll pull my sleeve down to open doors. Or grab a paper towel. In the brief 4th stanza, this turns into a kind of social isolation, a walling-off from human interaction.

The 2nd last line is a bit mischievous. The Biblical reference (John 14:2) alludes to something a lot bigger than the poem justifies. But I think the open-endedness fits the poem's loose structure and scattershot allusions. And certainly gives the reader lots of latitude to go wherever she wants with it. The title, too, is mischievous. I think it invites the reader to complete the line like a stern judge, handing down his sentence: "hung by the neck until dead". Another playful aspect is the jumble of body parts, including necks, elbows, knees, shoulders, and hands. Not to mention sweat, skin, and sweaty palms!