Card-Carrying Vendor From

Mr. Boneless Jackson, come right in!
Your seat is right where you left it.
Let me give you an instance
an inch of what could be a mile
over of this situation
let me help your mentality.
For the small and sub sequential
price of a handshake, this can all be yours.
The vast, overlying extent of it all.
The quiet electrifying taste of it all.
Yonder dark...it's yours, it's shot and bleeding
fresh dim, gift-wrapped in warm, solitary black
velvet--sharp, yet soft as baby rabbits
For you, there is a stocking on the walls, dripping
with dreams--a perfect balance of air, light, dark
color, me, the dead poet flapping in the choked breeze,
nailed to your door.