I would love to believe
that this poem
might sell a poetry book,
but I think selling poetry is like
selling banana peels.
Have you ever tried that?
If it's a good day and you
actually happen to have a banana in your peel
that does help pique the public interest a bit,
but still, people (even those who won't admit it)
like Skittles more than bananas
if given the choice.
You might say,
Oh yeah, well, my banana is a special banana.
It's bigger and yellower and has twice the potassium
of the next guy's banana,
but then somebody always shows up with chocolate
and you're screwed again.
All rights reserved.
This is about the sorry fact that my poetry book is not as interesting to people as an article on Lindsay Lohan.