What I love about doors
is what’s waiting inside
What I hate about inside
is the emptiness of rooms
What I love about rooms
is the comfort of bed
What I hate about bed
is the alarm-clock next day
What I love about day
is how it turns into night
What I hate about night
is the delusion of dreams
What I love about dreams
is waking up in the morning
What I hate about morning
is when its third letter is ‘u’
What I love about ‘u’
is your ‘o’ and your ‘y’
What I hate about ‘y’
is its puzzling questions
What I love about questions
is being right now and then
What I hate about then
is how it may have been once
What I love about once
is twice – then three times
What I hate about times
is the multiplication
What I love about multiplication
is how it’s never enough
What I hate about enough
is it’s hardly enormous
What I love about enormous
is the size of this city
What I hate about this city
is it’s so far from home
What I love about home
is the opening of doors
What I hate about doors
is what’s waiting inside
Phil Bowen