The Salesman Poem by Randall Livingston

He sold aluminum siding for a living.
Traveled far and wide.
Convincing the good folk his product
would keep the elements outside.
Both personable and handsome
with an artful salesman's spin,
he'd open up his sample case
and reel the suckers in.
Nighttime fell in a nondescript motel.
He found he couldn't hide
from the storm that raged inside,
the bourbon only intensified the
maelstrom.
Unrequited love and things that
should have been
rolled around like ice in the glass.
Again and again and again.
Another day in another town.
Lord please don't let the sun go down.
The old gentleman opens the door.

- R -