This is a quick poem about when I was buying my car, but far more general. I put it in sonnet form since I am a suggesting love. It still needs to be heavily revised, so I'll post those updates at sometime.
The Love of a Car Salesman
I find the love of a car salesman is
a warm hand shake as you walk in the door.
The man's devotion will be focused and his
true intentions will be hidden, on the floor,
it is straight to business. I do not
know what I want to do, I have to think.
He calls me night and day. I need to blot
his voice out of my head. I cannot blink
without hearing whether I'd like to come
in so that I can take a drive around,
but I can't help to think that this man is scum
I have yet to make my choice on this clown.
I want to trust this man and his credential,
I know if I try this relationship has potential.
Copyright 2007 William Curb
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