"salesperson" poems
I watch Laura through our adjoining office window
and pray to any god that will listen that she won't pick up the receiver.
I hope my glare burns the cord that...
******
*Good morning, Mr. Prater. My names is Laura and I'm calling from Vector Supplies.
How are you doing today?*
Her screech of a voice causes the hair on my arms to stand up.
Her laugh should be one of the layers of hell.
Hello? Mr. Prater?
Another customer dropped the call.
If someone with that voice called my home I would demand the manager
and accuse the caller of huffing helium, trying to get high.
She's the worst salesperson in this office.
Frankly, no one is great here.
At least we're better than the northern branch.
The boss, Mr. Leckman, opens the door and slithers into her office.
Laura, I saw that another customer hung up.
I'm sorry, Mr. Leckman. I promise I'm trying.
Try being more perky like I know you can.
Oh **** Don't encourage her you *****
And Laura, you can call me Ted, remember?
Yes, Mr. Leckman. I mean Ted.
Her giggle almost broke the glass of our window,
and if it had, I would have slit my wrists with the shards.
No hesitation.
I'm still watching the horror show,
and that's when I saw it:
He winked.
That ***** I knew she was ******* him.
That's the only reason why she's still here.
Sadly, I was interrupted mid-strangle fantasy when Mr. Leckman,
or Ted, barged in.
Ms. Dunn, get back to work.
Sorry, Ted--uh, Mr. Leckman.
He had shut the door before I could correct myself.
Great. I'm sure I'll get fired by the end of this week.
I need this ****** of a job.
It's one of the few places that doesn't make you
**** in a cup before you sell your soul.
Maybe I should bend over more often.
Aug 14, 2012
Aug 14, 2012 at 3:53 PM UTC
There’s a salesperson at the door
someone said
and so you went to the door
and there was the young salesman
with a book in his hand
and in a sharp grey suit
and hair neat and short cut
yes?
you said
I represent Carson’s stores
and it has been brought
to my notice
that you are behind
with your payments
is that so?
you said
yes
the young guy said
three months behind
and if you don’t pay today
the item you have chosen to buy
will be removed
is that so?
you said
the young guy looked
into his book of figures
and script
so you called out
Dolly there’s a young guy here
who says we owe him money
you both waited
while Dolly came to the door
what do we owe?
she asked
money
the young guy said
what for?
Dolly said
a vacuum cleaner
the young guy said
you are three months behind
now if you do not pay up today
it will be removed
Dolly raised her eyebrows
and put on her
don’t mess with me face
and went off
the young guy
and you looked
at each other in silence
after a few minutes
Dolly returned
carrying the vacuum cleaner
here
she said
here’s your **** Hoover
take the thing
and go stick it
where the sun
don’t shine
and so the young man
held up the vacuum cleaner
and looked at you
and Dolly
and said
right don’t come back
to the store
because you won’t
be served again
and off he went
out along the road
in the falling black rain.
Oct 24, 2012
Oct 24, 2012 at 3:24 PM UTC
The salesperson, the global sociopath, the way to consumer heaven and consumer paradise.
Mar 18, 2022
Mar 18, 2022 at 7:24 AM UTC
1
when first I heard the radio
when I was just about four
in a tiny village in India
I thought I was hearing things
but mom said:
'Don’t worry, rasa -
it’s just the radio…'
2
when first I heard
the voice on the other side of the line
I nearly jumped out of my skin
but the salesperson said:
'Don’t worry;
that’s not the devil
that’s just the marvel of the telephone'
3
when now I hear voices
when I’m in my shower
and I ask my wife and children:
'Did you guys want to talk to me?'
they answer:
'Why would we?
You’d better wash your ears;
You’re hearing things…'
Oct 2, 2010
Oct 2, 2010 at 5:52 PM UTC
~A Moment of Happiness~
It started out as an ordinary day,
Any ordinary day in one’s life.
We had probably been out the night before,
This memory escapes me now.
We woke to coffee and cigarettes
As we usually did.
You were on the Gucci site
Showing me the style of suit you had wanted.
We decided to hit Gucci on 5th Avenue.
Parenthetically, if you remember,
I wore sweats and a T-shirt, and you,
You wore your father’s old suit which kept it’s wear.
Here we were, walking toward Gucci,
Debating on whether I should visit Iceland on holiday.
Outside the store,
We were one of the anonymous,
But inside, we stepped into another world,
One of the rich, on 5th Avenue in New York City
Where price tags do not exist.
I remember the elevator ride and our conversation.
Stepping out to be greeted by a salesperson,
Whom I ordered around and kept on his toes due to his thirst for a sale.
A vision of you,
Standing there in the suit chalked up by the tailor.
I handed you a wine glass filled with Pelligrino,
To wash down the Xanax forced into your mouth.
When all was done, we were outside again,
Amongst the anonymous.
Later that night, we sat at the Whiskey Bar celebrating our day.
I remember hearing glimpses of U2’s “Beautiful Day”
In the background and thinking how appropriate.
I thought this was the beginning of happiness,
And there would always be more.
It was happiness, the moment.
All our feelings, yours and mine, all mixed up.
The madness of it all.
You see I wanted to give you it all, the world if possible.
To make you happy, in every viable platform.
I know now you didn’t feel the same.
Left with everything unsaid and undone between us.
Having that one day with you was my moment of happiness.
You have given all you had to offer for me.
For us.
I am here and you are there,
A huge distance between us.
Know, even though we have not spoken,
I am here,
For the conversation, the friendship, the silence.
Remember always what I said to you before I fled to England,
The night we walked the promenade;
Love doesn’t end just because we don’t see one another.
No matter how you look at it,
It’s only Love after all.
Jul 22, 2013
Jul 22, 2013 at 2:11 PM UTC
It's hard to understand
A Rockstar with a drug problem
A Literary type with wine tasting ability
A business man keen on social sense
A Lover craving spiritual connection and growth
Layers of fallen leaves in autumn
Piles of gold and red and orange
Football fan with a blue jersey
Homeless but with a vigil eye
For those who try to hard
An addict to anyone who loves
Caring to much to touch
Love that comes unbound
All too quick and all too much
I am all I write above
Some of it lies.... to myself
A dove with a heavy heart
singing in my mind
Flying for a shelter of like-minded doves.
But who am I this time?
Rockstar, Lush, Lover, Addict, Salesperson
I am a writer, or so I think...
Especially when I drink
I am all those things
I am assertion
Of life with many layers
Like other living beings
Like tree rings
Something you don't see
till lacerations
Cut the skin, cut the bark
Personality bleeds out
That's why I run to the closest person
Not the best
And I doubt it'll work out
She doesn't understand
I'm a Rockstar, Lush, Lover, Addict, Salesperson
Consumerist soul raging against itself
Artist running faucets of stealth
Hiding behind words
And guitar chords
She doesn't understand what I am.
A dove with a heavy heart
singing in my mind
Flying for a shelter of like-minded doves.
An addict to anyone who loves
Caring to much to touch
Love that comes unbound
All too quick and all too much
Oct 16, 2015
Oct 16, 2015 at 8:04 AM UTC
Walking into a store can be dazzling
and distracting,
accepting the culture to embezzle,
anything to lure the customer
and make a consumer.
But walk in, and find
the salesperson to ruin the image:
"hello, can I help you? What are you looking for?"
(not your help, thanks)
Similarly, self-promotional smucks
give me the same feeling.
I'm not going to check out your mixtape, I'm not going to check out
your youtube, I refuse to be bought, just because you asked nicely.
Feb 5, 2015
Feb 5, 2015 at 8:59 AM UTC
*A Story of Scientology and the Mental Health System Connection
SEEKER*
Now I can hear you saying to yourselves,
"So. You said you were smart. Why did you get involved with a crazy cult like Scientology?" Well. Two reasons. 1) I was raised an atheist (Humanist), but had a seeker's soul. I became very spiritual, like I said. I also had a desire to HELP people. Humanity. I still do. But because I had a godless upbringing I was left open to deception. And 2) I found a boyfriend. Or, I should say, he found me. One of Scientology's tried and true methods of recruitment.
I had another friend, a ***** Jewish scientologist (yes, there can be that sort of thing, as you can be "any faith" and still be a scientologist... hmph!). She introduced us. I was impressed by two things. He was an instructor at the "Mission". And he could tell you things that seemed psychic. One of the procedures for impressing people to sign up for classes and "processing" was this. Doug would position you in a certain part of the room. He'd have his back to you. Then he'd tell you to walk away from him... then stop abruptly.
**He'd be able to tell you when you stopped!** And he could do it every time! This really impressed me. Until I found out he looked into the reflective surface of a large glass covered poster that was on the wall! Lol! What a con artistic magician HE was! HA!
I was totally gone over by the registrar (salesperson). She stuck to me like glue until she FINALLY figured out, Yes! I had NO MONEY! So I didn't get any training or processing. Which was a BIG part of why I stuck around. I didn't even read "Dianetics" by L Ron Hubbard. Doug told me a little about it. But most of his energy was expended trying to get in my pants... a fruitless endeavor to say the least!
He was instrumental in getting me up to Phoenix for the fateful "Flag Orientation Tour". The recruitment campaign which would change my life forever...
Where I signed my life over to Scientology's Sea Organization for the next BILLION YEARS.
Mar 9, 2017
Mar 9, 2017 at 10:47 PM UTC
I CALCULATIONS
A bird from the window
Pecked at my papers
Lined with my scores.
Now trees are dead,
And papers are gone.
This is the computer age.
I will break it down for you.
I even made a list,
Would you like to count?
II THE LIST
1.This is the computer age
Of digitized proofs
And
2.Authority attested identies,
With participants' certificates.
3.Our own words have lost meaning
4.We are now vessels
With our definition stapled on screens
And
5.Meagre salaries
Tagged on our foreheads.
6.We are our grades.
7.The given guidelines,
Projects we finished overnight.
We are the cheated test scores,
8.The printed marksheets
From the renowned buildings.
9.We are a bunch of degrees.
10.We are a box of experience
With a reciept of coffees we bought,
We are a cv of what we did.
11.We are the said lies
And
12.The stress calmed by mummbled slurs.
13.We are the second employee
Shouted at.
And
14.We are the hundredth consumer
With company approved needs.
15.We are the salesperson with quotas to meet.
16.We are the owners
Of a dying business,
A pending debt.
17.We are the numerous people
Of covered faces on the streets
18.And exposed bodies in the world wide web.
19.We are the constructed
Digital photographs
With deconstructed heads.
20.We are a bunch of numbers
21.We are a bunch of numbers
22.We are a bunch of numbers,
23.When did we become
24. A 0 or a 1?
People shouldn't even fit in a whole encyclopedia
And yet here,
Are you looking for a number 25?
III RESULT
Well I gave the papers to the bird,
She put it in her nest
And made it warmer.
You call me crazy
But I will always
Call myself a free bird.
Jun 4, 2017
Jun 4, 2017 at 9:54 AM UTC
the salesperson
pointed me towards
the petite section
told me
*'oh the women's section
isn't for you'*
made me realize
how much
i've shrunk
don't get me
wrong
i'm still 5'2 (& a half)
still weigh
somewhere near 120
but
i have bent and burnt
into
the corners
i have
shrunk
it's a slow process
you don't
even realize that it is
happening
until you find yourself
smaller than ever
and you
wonder
how could a personality
as big as mine
become
as small as this
perhaps it first began
when i
learnt to
stay quiet
when
i really
wanted to say
no
or
yes
or
maybe
or
i believe
or i don't think so
but instead
i looked down
kept
my lips
sealed
and my
eyes closed
blinking
only to
feel my eyelashes
against
my cheeks
i once
had a boy
tell me
he fell in love
first with my voice
then
with me
he tried to solve
me
like a puzzle
putting back the bits and pieces
to create something
whole
but in the process
the pieces got
jumbled up
into something new
and the
voice
i had
that captured
his soul
slipped
away
i started shrinking
when
i lost my voice
and now
i think i've lost
my heart too
my
passion doesn't
flow so
loudly in
my veins and
every now and then
it does
scream
but i silence it
*be good,
little girl,
be silent*
and to
the girls who
are walking on
glass made
of unwanted opinions
and voices
which are far louder than
theirs,
i say,
remember.
remember who you are
remember what
you are worth.
and remember
that not the father
nor the son
can take from you
the fire
that burns
brighter than the
sun above.
my daughter,
i say,
let your voice
be heard and
let your freedom
burn
and
*if
there is a day*
when a man
comes and tells you
that he
will replace
the vocal
chords into
something
softer
you
open your hands
offer him peace
and if he rejects
use your freedom
to send
him
far
far
away.
Sep 15, 2017
Sep 15, 2017 at 2:09 PM UTC
I am not a shirt you try on,
and put back because you don’t think
it will work.
I am not a car you take on a test drive,
and leave with the dealer because you don’t like
how you look with me.
I am not a food sample at the food court that you take
to make the poor salesperson happy,
but spit me out later because my taste didn't suit you.
I am not an object,
not something you can spit out or put back.
I am a human being.
Feb 25, 2014
Feb 25, 2014 at 1:07 AM UTC
I once met a suit salesperson on the street. He approached me and said "My hands craft magic, do you want to buy a suit?"
I asked, "how much for it? And size?"
He replied, " one grand. And don't worry it contains magical elements, the size doesn't matter".
I gave him the money and he asks me "you ready?"
I nodded my head to indicate yes.
He handed me a deck of cards and said "you now have a full suit".
Worst one grand I have ever spent ever.
Feb 14, 2016
Feb 14, 2016 at 2:45 PM UTC
One-click shopping,
instant payment –
so convenient;
so ******* easy
to cross over
from being a shopper
to a low-key hoarder.
I don’t buy expensive stuff.
No, nothing excessive.
Just read about a new book,
must-read of the season,
rave reviews on Goodreads.
Available on Amazon?
Yes, it also has a Kindle version.
(See,
even though there is no comparison
between the warmth of a paperback
and the cool efficiency of e-books,
I prefer my Kindle simply because
it’s easier to carry multiple books.)
So I click – buy – get it.
Now it sits
in merry company
of all the books I bought
so ******* conveniently
while I keep rereading the books
I’ve already read.
Don’t get me started
on my obsession with stationery.
Is there any feeling better
than writing on blank paper?
Seeing your busy thoughts
fall in neat lines,
march in formation,
until they reveal the idea underneath.
I keep browsing through the section
of notebooks, journals, diaries,
pencils, pens – oh, there are so many kinds!
I click – buy – get it.
A moment of ecstasy
when the I get the delivery
even though I mostly jot down
any sudden flash of inspiration
on my phone because it’s always handy.
Getting bigger?
Get larger jeans.
No need to stand trial
before judgemental eyes
of the “helpful” salesperson.
Sidestep the self-esteem crisis,
just click – buy – get it.
Easy return policy;
quick refund if it does not fit.
Idly scrolling on social media
and I’m bombarded
with some choice targeted marketing.
How can I refuse
such a customised bait?
Hook, line, click on the link –
there – it’s not that expensive,
nothing too excessive.
I’ll buy that yellow dress,
those cute strappy sandals,
the quirky socks,
ooh a new mascara!
Wear the dress once and chuck it aside,
then go back to cycle the same five outfits.
Put on the mascara,
bat my eyes in jubilation,
then banish it to the drawer
because it gets on my contacts
and causes irritation.
I can go on and on and wax poetic
about the wonders of window-shopping
from the comfort of my couch.
I swear it’s such a great feeling
coming home to find my package waiting.
Apr 16, 2019
Apr 16, 2019 at 12:02 PM UTC
The lie is in the mirror and on our screen.
That like button lies to you
Social media is a salesperson
Each photo uploaded is expired meat
Sold as butchers choice.
We are all tagged and complacent on the block
Glee to be valued and chopped.
Every like charges dopamine into a dope-fiends melancholy viens.
I'm high and heart-liked, thus beautiful.
Where's the button to scream?
Mar 11, 2019
Mar 11, 2019 at 9:37 AM UTC
Politicians are at the top
of language, salesperson
and lawyer in one they
compress the voters' words
with lobbyists and preachers
along the line, it's all
about bluff and the art
of getting stuck every now and then
so that a competitor has to come
and help and inconspicuously
pushed on previous promises
crashes, chokes on them
or at least tears
himself inside
on their blade
You too, Brutus?
It is a full moon
The people are cheering
Mar 8, 2024
Mar 8, 2024 at 4:18 AM UTC