11,534. AUCTION GLOVES ON

AUCTION GLOVES ON

I've got my auction gloves on and

I'm selling the world : taking all

bids on nothing. This reality,

unfurled, it waves like a wind

on the water and the wise men,

yes, would pass on bidding but

mostly people swirl to raise

their hands and pick their bid

and choose their numbers. Here,

look, they are stacked three-deep.

Professors and preachers and

lawyers and madams  -  old

folk and young fold, none making

amends just rather bidding for

more as if there's no end to what

they can have. And still they want

more, again and again. The lovely

doyenne reaching high, she seeks

the Tipplewhite Vase from 1445.

That man wants 10 buses, another

the streetlamps from some  Downing

Street lane; this kid seeking Babe 

Ruth's glove is bidding again. And

here is that yacht named Absurdity;

5 men in a vicious bidding war are

screaming actively for more! What

would I give to accept the whole lot,

I'd bid on a trash can, and heave

what I've got. I'm selling the world -

an old bitch gone in the teeth
 with a gutful of rot.