The Person From Porlock Poem by Sheena Blackhall

The person from Porlock
Phoned three times on Saturday
E-mailed twice on Sunday
Desperately knocked on Monday

I am never at home to persons from Porlock who call.
Look! He’s bypassed the burglar alarm!
He’s clearing his throat.
He’s wanting to bend my ear,
To twist my arm.

I’ll wager it’s double glazing or changing to British Gas
Or the Church of Latter Day Saints…or he’s wanting to cut the grass
Tarmac the loo or collect for dysfunctional dogs
Or he’s bearing a huge petition to save Britain’s wetlands and bogs.

Rats! He’s done it! He’s conned himself on to my page
That drowner of dreams in a bucket, de-railer of poems unpenned
There’s always a person from Porlock who’ll get you in the end.