Let me tell you straight
What we have here is a business
We provide poems for some of the world’s biggest corporations
The wealthiest people
You’d think celebrities could do it themselves.
But they don’t.
An hour ago we had a rush order
From the head of a car dealership
Who gave us the first two lines.
“There was a young cowboy in Texas
Who dreamed of owning a Lexus.”
Want to finish that?
We get a ton of job applications
Not all of them English majors with student loans
We hired a guy who does elegies in church yards
And another who watches woods fill up with snow
And a gal who doesn’t leave her house and never stops – at all.
Boy, can she produce.
If you hear America singing
Listen on your own time.
Our clients don’t like downbeat content
Mighty Casey never strikes out
Of that sort of Dramatic Poem that is tragedy–
We fired a computer that wrote sestinas
You’d think it would make changes
And show up for meetings every once in a while
Be more of a team player
And take a little criticism
But it didn’t.
We turned down this Yukon type
Who couldn’t have cremated Sam McGee
We don’t want anybody raging against the dying of the light.
We said no to this smug little playwright.
Who, when in disgrace in fortune and men’s eyes, thinks of…
Somebody. I forget.
We’re a business
That walks in beauty, day and night.
Sometimes for a breath we’ll tarry.
We’re still waiting on a sonnet
Something about love.
How long does it take to count the ways?