Sales Poem / Sails Poem

Storyboard One: Little Sailing Lines

His office spoke in pictures, former
wife, two married daughters, and
his bygone sailboat, sails unfurled,
the ocean’s silver salt spray framing
its name, ‘The Soul Survivor.’ Meetings
often saw him glide his eyes
within its wake despite financial
inefficiencies or other
venture topics they discussed,
some critical, some not. He knew
that laughter was especially
a time when honest lines became
much easier to cross. He crossed
enough himself in twenty-seven
years of management—no joke.

He used to think that someone sold
his soul for one extraordinary
opportunity, just one
transaction made: lock, stock, and barrel.
Now he knew inconsequential
subdivisions merchandised
much easier, a little lying
at a time. That’s all the payment
needed, nothing more. Just look
them in their eyes and sell them half-
an-acre of what little you
maintain, convincing them of worlds
you know to be untrue, although
you’re stuck in one of your own making
now; there’s little you can do.

~Greg Perry 2007