I have a poor market stall <br />Selling oranges to the forlorn <br />They're juicy, succulent visions <br />And you can try one if you would <br />A one-off offer only available today <br /> <br />These oranges are a possible happening <br />A bright vision of equality <br />An appetising ripeness among the despair <br />Don't look on with bitterness <br />Or plunder pillaged desperation <br /> <br />The oranges come from the future <br />The oranges come from a possible <br />They're sun filled experiences <br />And you could try one if you like <br />A get-one-free special only for today <br /> <br />Hitherto the market has been declining <br />One thrust might have been our demise <br />Our graves already dug among the detritus <br />But a new fresh batch of oranges <br />Opens the faintest possibility of ascent <br /> <br />Why don't we make a world of oranges? <br />Everyone growing or trading fruit <br />A cultural of equivalence <br />Full of the aroma of promise <br />Where everyone tastes sweetness <br /> <br />You could join us selling oranges <br />Or some other delicious fruit <br />We could make the market thrive again <br />Becoming a delectable exotic vision <br />And spreading to neighbouring towns<br /><br />Timothy Marshal Nichols<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/the-market-trader/
