I Prefer Not To

My last eleven e-mails
were from a string of corps
requesting valuation of
how they do their work.

At first it was amusing

to dish out random scores
but now they've got me wondering,
"What is this all for?"

First of all I paid them.
I assumed that was enough,
but now they've come abegging
for written notes of love.

I fear they won't be happy
until I've scored them all,
but how'd it come to me
to fill the vacuum in their souls?

As I look upon the world
and fail to place the blame,
I return to one solution
to which I'm hooked like crack cocaine.

I will write a poem,
a lovely little poem,
and fill it with my 'wisdom',
and hope it keeps me going.

But this one really means it,
so you'd better pay attention.
I can't be held responsible
for your personal redemption.

Listen up and listen good
'cos I will not say this twice.
The thing you did or stuff you sent,
basically sufficed.

It must have been acceptable,
arriving timely and intact.
If your product had been terrible,
I would've sent it back.

As to excellence or greatness,

thereof I cannot speak.
It seems to be a lofty goal
unless, of course, you've peaked.

Yet I guess your need is shallower
than I have yet supposed.
What you really want is evidence
that you've outperformed your foes.

But I will not play enabler
to your increased market share
so kindly gather up your e-mails,
and GET THE F*CK OUT OF HERE!