Buy One Get One Free Poem by Robert Rorabeck

I suppose I am selling again,
The words that come
On my lips after midnight,
And everything has changed
Into shaded hypocrisies:
You can have me for free,
The few that even care,
If you can find me.
Packed up and on the road,
My possessions slung over my shoulder,
I might be anyone along
This dark stretch
Whistling amidst the pines and cypress:
Bankrupt and smiling,
Without a ring, but
I have my dog:
And he doesn’t lie,
Unless I tell him to-
The daylight gives me a chance
To find a job,
Because everyone is working
In the land of opportunity:
The wealth you recommend
As your drive by in definitions of
Distended Capitalism
There your are:
The adulteries hung up in
The store windows beside the lapping shore.
A parking lot of married couples
And their growing versions:
Stream by,
And I will scream at you,
Here is something else I am selling,
Because it’s something you haven’t got.
Step up and take a listen
To my miracle cure,
Placed in your ear, you can hear the sea,
And the first words your mother
Told you-
Today is the busiest day of the year,
But tonight you have found me
Alone on my corner
Selling you things
As you pass by.