what goes around - comes around

Two of my poems from the mid 1980's

unfortunately as pertinent today as in a previous Tory reign!

 

 

 

 

Furniture Salesman

 

Too late, even to sell
himself. The air is silent.

Distinct servility
lurks behind

that benign smile -
lacking expectancy.

Once there was the quiet
thrill of anticipation -

a first transaction
in the adult world -

but that first tremor
soon began to wane.

Once he waxed lyrical
to tell of all

the benefits
the purchaser might find:

now he's resigned -

too late
even to sell himself.

 

Malcolm Evison

 

 

 

Doleful Blues

(Just One Of Maggie’s Victims)


                        He seeks and fails to find

the semblance of

his once bright hope.

The family sleeps, he lies

awake, perhaps

a few untruths could make

an honest man of him.

Purveyor of unwanted skills,

he sifts through all

the cut-price vacancies –

prepares to swallow principle

as well as pride.

                

                                              Malcolm Evison