Monday, August 26, 2024

A Market For Poems?

Everyone who is sensitive, or appreciates beauty,
Is a potential connoisseur, is bound by duty,
To read, reflect, and mull, let a chord strike his very being,   
That the whole world can be a market- believing is seeing. 

Everyone who can read well, is proficient in English, 
Is part of my target segment, the swamp in which I fish.
Sea may not be my oyster, I can always cry a river,
And pin by slings and arrows, shooting from my quiver.
 
Everyone who likes or loves me, our paths crossed perchance,
Whose mind share I have earned, who's ready to finance.
Buys my books or coffee, is a patron in true sense,
Likes my poems on Facebook, be they obtuse or dense. 
 
What should I optimize for, to grow TAM, SAM or SOM?
I write for you my dear, not to please harry, dick or tom. 


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