Vendors said, no more free coupons.
First they'd consider buttons
as red as bypass surgery
bringing users
face-to-face with their own credit cards.
Because conversion happens one click at a time.
Enter drop-dead menus,
free-form fields, back up on the Internet
conversos
paraded naked in the street,
hair plucked and strung across lutes
by those who occupy a higher register
in robes that are purple and soft
as fingers that pull on beards,
because conversion happens one prayer at a time.
Time is a lottery many play but few win,
an orange ticket on the driver's side
that falls from the dash
as sand funnels through ears
unable to hear the wind,
the way a camel's lips twitch
before pressing onward
past the next dozen ravines
there's water.
