We think every word we speak is a sales word.
We’re selling our reputation
our special skills
But I’m of the school of no sell.
None of our sentences actually attempt to sell anything.
They are shot out of an economic cannon one cannot see.
They are confetti dancing over the void
like those old pop gun party favors would release.
Every day the stock market throws this party
to celebrate itself.
Even to watch it from afar is a treat.
If you inhabit this distance,
gazing from its calm awayness,
you are either loaded
or some kind of artist.
Jerome Sala is the author of Corporations Are People, Too!, The Cheapskates, Look Slimmer Instantly, and the forthcoming How Much? New and Selected Poems. He lives in New York City, and is enjoying Genghis Chan on Drums by John Yau.