The Hard Sell

The spangles in his talk glitter
as he stares us down and cracks
his order book to make us jump
to elevated promises. He feeds us
candy words to tempt us to leap
through the hoop of hopes then ends
his act with a silverplated bow
and a smile that cheshires in the air.
Dazed from the show, still cowed
by the cocked pen, the tilted chair,
we retreat to a corner with our
check stubs and shiver while balloons
burst on the figures of fact.