Fierce pains sharked through his arm.
Pietro Bornorquod rent air and ears,
skeltered fatly through narrowing lift-doors,
with desperado gusto of weary traveller.
Struck in drop by clanging door,
suitcase thudded to resquiescat;
strain removed from bargain locks,
discharged unwashed contents.
stiffened British upper lips;
others, less patriotic, betrayed
blinked round, still chewing cud,
sniggered, raised eyes almighty-wards.
Lift started ascent
with fat squeak, thud
and spill evolving
amorphously into huge anal bend
thrust malodorously into faces;
into phonemes of foreign distress;
into tumble of bent man’s
personal effects from jacket pocket:
wallet, passport, papers,
dirty postcards and so on,
enough for someone to think
he was ‘effin asking for it.