Thanks Bill nice tale -was not sure if it needed the last verse??
-----Original Message-----
From: Poetryetc: poetry and poetics [mailto:[log in to unmask]] On
Behalf Of Bill Wootton
Sent: 28 August 2013 06:39
To: [log in to unmask]
Subject: Cometh the Hour snap
Cometh the Hour
So Geoff it was, tow-headed Geoff
with his withered arm 'swimming'
in the dangling cuff of his striped
shirt sleeve, Footscray barracking
clerical assistant Geoff, so easily
embarrassed, as when fellow
office workers twisted the rubber
tail of his Wile E Coyote toy
so that it looked like a penis;
Geoff, of all the six floors of research
officers, statisticians and clerks,
who saw what needed to be done.
A girl sunbaking on her lunch break
on a neighbouring city building roof
had become stranded when a stray
wind gust had knocked over the chair
she had propped in the doorway,
locking her out; she calling forlorly
to pdestrians below. Other eyes gazed
on high, fingers stabbed on muting glass.
Not Geoff's. As soon as he saw, Geoff
finger-flicked the Yellow Pages, found
the name of the building, dialled,
asked to speak to the caretaker.
Geoff, who, getting the runaround
on the phone, slammed it down
and marched off to the lift lobby.
Geoff, who emerged, some fifteen
minutes later, from behind
the custodian of keys, shuffled
towards the girl, extended his good
right hand and shook the girl's,
before turning and waving
and raising his thumb skywards
to the darkened glass windows
of his workplace.
Geoff, who, returning to his desk,
coloured slightly as he acknowledged
with a dismissive flap of his good
arm, the spontaneous applause
which greeted him as he
resumed his position.
bw
28.08.13
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