Uncle Wally gets the general idea
but struggles with the details.
All his teachers told him this,
and he believed them.
So he went to work for Bristol-Myers,
driving from town to town.
When he opened doors
there was a little bell ringing
and the smell of perfume.
People were glad to see him,
in his bright white shirts and loud striped ties.
He didn’t need to sell them, really,
just order what they needed,
though sometimes he forgot
to mark it down in his book.
He was in the back room with the manager,
telling stories. The prairie was all around.
The wind was coming down from the North.
But Uncle Wally was always in the warm back room,
eating donuts and telling stories, laughing.