Flea Market Poem by Cheryl L. DaytecYañgot

The rule is wrangle smart
till you squeeze the best quotation
A loftier bid might be
proffered by the competition
The prized commodity
will slip through unwary fingers
Deposit a tender sure
to slake the wily vendor’s thirst

Granted, the business foe
might be shorn of capital
But he may bring home the goods
if all things be equal
So craft a clear variation;
create a confident edge
Go to the justice hall now;
discreetly clinch the purchase

Novel articles of trade
embrace the sacrosanct justice
The hallowed hall of fairness
has become a market place
Where gold is a shameful price
for disreputable favors
Lionized connoisseurs of truth
stoop low to be vendors

The monumental edifice stands
but no longer intimidates
To no further extent,
it’s different from fetid market places
Time was when society
revered the brown earth it stood on
Now they crash its gates to dropp
a bid for a biased evaluation

(23 January 2001)