Flim-Flam Man Poem by Mark Heathcote

Let's throw out together some random thoughts.
Heavily-weighted, blunted like darts at a dartboard.
And, watch where they fall, where they rebound.
Where they sick in, where they land, if anywhere-at-all.
Quick duck, don't just stand there dithering-
As though an angel is about to call or crawl
Jettison over a 34000ft wall in order just-to-rescue you.
Don't you know that hypercritic jailer is on vacation?
And, He doesn't care at all to send a postcard back,
Back from heaven, he's saving air miles as we speak.
Prayer mats at his feet factor 50 cool His body heat
But he isn't afraid to speak his mind, put you on the rack.
Do, some flim-flam man racket sell you a nickel for a grand
And if the shoe doesn't-fit do something more-underhand
Like send you to see your uncle Nick, who calls you a prig,
Who-calls-you a sanctimonious private school thingamajig.