There are a lot of things a billionaire
can say that a poet cannot, really.
Like “Live for the opinions of others
and you are dead,” as Slim said.
Human contexts, of course, may differ
(poets tend to be zillion-aires or nothing);
their horizons are like apples and oranges;
you can live on a rope or a shoestring.
Poets tend to care more that you convene with them,
but are nonpareil at not giving a dang.
There’s no doubt they’ll have the last word.
A dialogue is unimaginable, not least in verse.
Spit into a billionaire’s wide-open eye:
it is unlikely even to notice!
You’ll never say the same of a poet’s orbs
though they be almost closed to a slit.
There are a lot of things a poet
can buy that a billionaire cannot, really.
Like the little cottage by the stream
for all his books Peter got.
Human contexts, of course, may differ
(billionaires tend to own mansions and van Goghs);
their habitats are like apples and oranges;
you can hang on a shoestring or a rope.
Billionaires tend to care only for expensive things,
but are constantly on the lookout for a bargain.
There’s no doubt they’ll get what they want.
A swapping is unimaginable, not least of stocks.
Shit on a poet’s rickety porch,
the image will wind up on paper!
Dump some on a billionaire’s terrace,
it’ll be on video and handled by waiters.