by Jeff Schiff.
Oh to know which bus will yield
the unguent buyers
tortoise and lizard balm
those jonesing
for cupped gelatin
Japanese style peanuts
those easily baited by clever packaging
spring water in a bag
or la ultimate cena
last supper rat poison
those suckered by
three for one math
to know whether those stopped en-route
to Panajachel
just back from a bathroom break
or those embarking
for Sumpango
and Santo Domingo Xenacoj
are the likeliest marks
Oh to know how to undercut
rivals who hopped
off in rapid disgust
or to be good at currying guilt
planting shills
inciting just-to-get-rid-of-you sales
Oh to know if or when
to leverage your god
cooing about man’s kindness to man
or croaking about the injustice
wrought by turning aside