I have always wanted to be an artist.
I have dabbled in painting, drawing, singing, acting,
Pottery, writing, poetry, verse and music composition.
But these days the most celebrated art is
How could I muscle in on it?
Unmade beds have been done, along with
Sitting opposite someone, stock still, saying nothing all day.
Blue paintings are old hat, and putting Coca Cola logos on ancient
Chinese pots is an art already established as meaningful.
And then it came to me! I recently realized that
I had already devised a new trend in the art world:
And I had been doing it all my life!
Who persuaded twenty-five housewives to separately pick up a foreign hitchhiker in rural America?
Indeed, who inveigled his way for three whole working days
Into the office of the Chairman of the US Senate Foreign Relations
Committee and sat in on all the meetings, convincing all and
Sundry that he was a journalist?
Who persuaded numerous concerned mothers that their daughters
Were safe in his hands?
Who looked sufficiently competent (hah!) that a reluctant bank manager
Agreed not to foreclose on his business?
Who persuaded 120 restive suppliers to extend their credit for six months?
Who persuaded an Oxford college to offer a definite place to a young man who had not yet taken A Levels, was the world’s worst mathematician, and who had minimal Latin?
Who convinced a committed and successful economist to abandon her career and devote herself to music, while knowing nothing about it (along with said Persuasion Artist)?
Who talked his way out a severe Army reprimand when (falsely) accused of over-enthusiasm with a group of elderly ladies in a Cypriot village?
And who claims that his incompetence as a soldier finally convinced the British government that the draft was a menace to national security?
And now, Dear Reader, to persuade you that this is a poem……….