I love a little door to nowhere,
 with no apparent reason to be. 
  Not under a sign or in the square,
   but in a privy wall or thick tree.

Somewhere one would least expect a door.
 Somewhere that begs the question: "Where to?"
  A place for mean rogues, scamps and whores?
   A hideaway that offers no clue. 

It would probably just disappoint:
 to learn the sanctum's private intrigues.
  Not some tough, sleazy speakeasy joint,
   or bohemian savants' league. 

And so, I never, ever knock,
 but let the story form in my mind -
  a tale to titillate and shock,
   one that leaves no misanthrope behind.