Friday, September 21, 2007

Kicking out the door

He doesn’t remember kicking out the door

But I’ll never forget it

The others screaming as best they could

In the swelling choir of smoke and chaos

While he pounded away

I wasn’t there that day

But I’ve been there often since

Sitting just behind him

A few rows away

And I wonder what I’d do

No: wonder is the wrong word