! ! The Salesman Poem by Michael Shepherd
! ! The Salesman
The salesman – blue eyes
helped him get the job I guess;
what’s behind them?
I’m no longer host in my own house:
he’s cast me as opponent, victim
whom he will bully into gratitude.
He spreads his brochures on the table.
When he’s gone, I feel dirty,
battle-worn; better phone
the man around the corner for a so-so job;
at least we know each other.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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8/17/2026 5:30:45 PM # rel_20260813T193622Z_3aad590
Michael, it would seem he was successful to the extent that your eyes are now double glazed? David.