Pitchman

Pitchman

He stands in front of the studio camera

This space is designed to tire and hammer

Only money or email will save

Everyone from geegaws not needed

But are supposed to crave

This studied pitchman 

Is magically slick

In a comfortable suit 

He asks his audience to pick

Whatever he's selling 

He answers all questions

In a calm steady voice

He says they're only suggestions

The world will never rid the glowing screens of them

They'll glow and they'll grow each with their own special gem

I haven't a thing to sell just silly old words

The world is chock full of spewed

Alphabetic  turds

Hart Crane raged his alcoholic depression

Wondering if his writing was any good

I'm depressed but haven't had a drink

In many years

I don't care if my poems are good or great

I made my decisions for all of it

This life will throw me off the ship

Soon enough whether anyone

Bought my pitch or not

I've been bobbing in the sea a long time

There's plenty of time to drown

Barry G. Wick