Today he tried to salvage
a poem from his youth,
something moody about love
and death and love again,...

The Shopco knows no dignity
oranges perfect as bowling shoes
and a blue light flashing at every isle.

So it occurred to him that he could
use a hammer for the job, which previously
he did not consider.

No more Harvard men for me.
I'm looking for a man who's good with his hands,
Swiftian repartee only goes so far,
like good pate, it remains in the parlor.