It's National Poetry Day (or so the media tell me.)

I discovered via the TV that today is national poetry day so, rather than paint the fence, I whistled up this in the hope our other jazz poets may follow suit. The Doorman. Let’s hear it for the doorman, The most thankless task of all. He has to sit and take the money Whilst the others have a ball. On the stand they’re blowing Giant Steps Or a few of his favourite things But all he hears are moans and groans ‘bout the cost of getting in. Can you change a twenty? Do you do Amex? They’re playing That’s a Plenty Will you take a check? He’s dying of thirst He wants a beer But the customer comes first It’s like Sahara sitting out here. But if he wasn't there The guys wouldn’t get paid Go home without money? No chance of getting laid. So let’s hear it for the doorman As important as the drummer He’s the band's real front line Without him (her) the gig is a bummer. Lance.