The gate which every wall from China's Great to Humpty Dumpty's has dreamed of...
The gate for which all hinges would bend over backwards.
The gate that sends ball bearings spinning and handles twisting in joy.
The gate to match the unlockable lock and the unmovable bar.
The gate for keeping things in.
The gate for keeping things out.
The gate to swing and (if kept oilless) to creak.
The gate to move air through the kingdom.
The gate to push air out of the kingdom.
The gate to withstand mud, blood, Robin Hood, woms, rot, and mossy rumours.
The gate upon which birds can sit.
The gate against which dogs may pee.
The gate for polishing and weathering.
The original latest oldest most modern ugliest loveliest grandest damdest gate of them all.
The gate St. Peter wanted...and could not get.
The gate .
And whose GATE?
My friend Michael's.
Is he stingy with it?
Does he lock it up in the vault in the bedroom?
Does he keep it to himself?
He hangs the GATE right out there by the side of the road as a Friend to Man!
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