Bill Grace


Young Man Selling At My Door - Poem by Bill Grace

The young man coming to my door with the preposterous offer
Is painful not for the visitation
Rather, memory of my own youth - its optimism and naivete.
The sort of thing that makes you think
That a bottle of detergent can conquer the world
And does, until you meet it.


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Poem Submitted: Friday, December 23, 2011

Poem Edited: Friday, December 23, 2011


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