A Reactionary in Seattle

by Ross Eisen

There's no business like the sex toy business.
In at twenty cents of molded DuPont byproduct,
Out at the price of pride in the new compulsory sense.
And who would hold the purse strings tight
When it comes to something that goes in your ass?
Research confirms that business is booming
The sex shops dot the main drag
The margins disgusting,
The shops empty but profitable
on a few daily sales
you could count
with your fingers.

Nearby, the only diner around
Has a line down the block and a forty five minute wait,
Selling eggs and bacon at cost plus a pittance.
And no one would be surprised
If the place closed tomorrow,
The butt plug and weed people
Needing to satisfy their appetites.
After all it doesn't harm anyone
(No retort can be imagined)
And economics works in their favor.

But the management of demand
Is within the domain of public policy
And it makes one think
of a subsidized campaign
To popularize the idea
Of pleasuring yourself
With a French omelette.

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Ross Eisen is the Pedestrian’s resident poet.