Calling Card Poem by Gary Diamond

The hyperware.
The salesmans grin and stare
Calling card in handshake
Vague acquaintence not to make.

We leave our calling cards in visible ways
We have it strewn about the house
We have our D.N.A.

Why get snared?
With so many choices why this one?
Have to make one at some point.
Every day fraught with decisions
The most successful of those days
The ones where it all felt natural.

I have a curse - you have a curse - we have a curse.
We long and strive too hard too be remembered
To be memorable and to be in someone else's mind a pure image
The truth is deeper than that
The truth is harsh at that.

Did you ever notice that the most successful and excellent
Were the ones who made joy and contact effortless?
The ones who imbued themselves on your countenance
On your consciousness
At their convienience
Achieved it by merely appearing not to try.

Too much effort and too much vision are a turn off.
We respect better those who rolled with the punches well
Even the ones we thought they would avoid
Because if a greater prizefighter takes an easy hit
He's gearing up to plant a bigger one
By getting into the mind and fear of his opposition
What a pro.

Calling cards then.
Semblence of which is clear sometimes
And convuluted others.

Don't seek to be exceptional; ever.
Don't bother trying harder all the time; just sometimes.
Live well; if you chose to live at all.
My calling card is the sloth of the underachiever.
Don't let it be yours.