After-Hours Hot Spot Poem by Donal Mahoney

You never know
who'll be there though
folks are dying to get in.

Then suddenly you're
at the door, hat in hand,
surprised to be there.

If the door opens
you walk in. If not,
you disappear.

No questions asked.
No answers given.
Some say it's wise

to make a reservation.
Others say never mind.
There's no one's there.

But when you're
at the door, hat in hand,
surprised to be there,

you have no choice.
The door opens
or you disappear.