twelve easy payments

back in the early
sixties you used to
go door to door selling
encyclopedias
or bibles and for
one long hot summer
hoover vacuums.
you were trying
to clean up the world,
or at least give
it knowledge that
they were unaware
of. you'd throw
dirt onto their
carpet and say
something like
don't worry, the hoover
will get it up.
then  hit the switch
as the whirlwind
wheels spun and sucked
up your once bagged
dirt, or you'd ask them
a question about
mt. rushmore, who's
on it and smile, as
they sat slackjawed
without a clue. you've
already put your finger
on that page with
full color photos
and illustrations.
don't let your kid
be a dope, you'd say,
and when it came to
sin and forgiveness,
who didn't need
a brand new bible
with a bookmarker
to help get them off
the bottle and
to leave the sinful
life behind. in
fact you even bought
a couple for yourself.
sign right there, you'd
say, taking out your
best pen. only twelve
easy payments
and you're free
and clean and smart.