Friday, October 9, 2015

Sales Monster

Snortles said she
wished to cease being
a monster under so
many sleeping beds.

She said she wished
she worked in sales
at a mattress store
as a sleeping consultant.

Snortles said she
wished her name was
Cindy, and certainly not
Snortles: the Sandman Strangler.

Snortles sobbed and sighed,
stomped her hooves in the sand
and swung her tail recklessly
in her supervisor’s office.

“Snortles,” said her Supervisor,
“You can’t sell the sleeping beds,
your scales and sharp incisors would
scare the customers.”

Her Supervisor snarled and smoke
spewed from his stack. He steamed
and stoked and hissed. “It’s just how
it is Snortles,” he said.

“Call me Cindy,” she said.
She wiped her snot on her
sleeve and stood from her seat,
“My name is Cindy and I sell mattresses!”

She stormed out, slamming her
supervisor’s door. Thinking about
Melanie Griffiths and starting things
over like Working Girl from the cinema.

“I’m Cindy,” she said to herself,
“I’m Cindy and I’m strong.”

And that’s why there’s no
monster under your bed

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