A Poem Is Knocking (For LJR)

I tell you, a poem is knocking!
Should I let it in?

It may be both hairy and smelly
and may track mud in.

In the ceiling lightbulbs are rattling,
perhaps, may fall.

Now a fist is smashing a message,
breaking through the wall.

Is it not fitting
that a poem so intent on existence
should be granted life?