Always The Salesman Poem by Donal Mahoney

Always The Salesman



On the road all week
finally it's Friday
and he's almost home

so he calls his wife
and says it will be
about an hour

and she says
you must be hungry
what can I fix

and he says
nothing fancy
a nightgown will do

Friday, September 30, 2016
Topic(s) of this poem: marriage,selling
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