the insurance salesman

a man in a black
suit is at your
door. he knocks
and knocks. it's
a persistent knock,
but polite too.
there is a brief case
in his hand.
what, you say,
edging the door
open. a wet towel
around your waist,
and you are holding a
ham sandwich
you just carefully
put together.
you push your barking
dog back with
your bare foot,
what, you say
again, i'm sort
of busy. I don't
have a fireplace.
no, he says.
it's not about that.
i'm not selling
firewood.
do you have a
few moments.
i'd like to discuss
your future
with you. it's
very important.
not really you say,
licking mustard
from your finger.
my future is rather
personal. I keep
it to myself.
do you have life
insurance, he says.
term, or whole?
I don't think so,
you take a bite of
the sandwich. look,
I have to wash this
down, do you mind, plus
jeopardy is about
to come on.
put your card through
the slot, and i'll
give you a call,
maybe. call me
he says, it's very
important that you
call me. you don't
want to leave
your loved ones left
holding the bag
with nothing.
loved ones? you say,
who might they be.
I see he, says, tipping
his hat, well, good
day then.