My Dad Knew Auction Language Poem by Patti Masterman
My Dad Knew Auction Language
My dad knew auction language;
He had the city-stutter,
He counted out the increments,
His syllables like butter.
He spoke the dollars dialect,
And knew the secret signs;
The furtive hand or head-nod,
And he could read their minds.
My dad knew auction language;
I wondered where he learned it:
He took their money, one and all-
I swear; he never spurned it.
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem
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4/24/2024 2:51:12 AM # 1.0.0.1119
