Scam Artisan vs. Talking Poem

"Write anything because the sound attracts" says Mark--not the apostle. As id attracts us to the sins our minds devise for him and her and us and we, unique cells in skull hells, well, so am I supposed to seduce the teetering populace from the straight and narrow farmer's market road--you know who I am... I'm your local poet! I [unclear word] these keys with raindrop falling fingers like I would bring about the flood-- being uncovenanted by rainbows-- but I make no claims to Godhood--in fact I prefer to think on it, on poetry, on crafting poems, as being a craftsman, an artisan--like Geppetto, observe Pinnochio? Can it come to life? Can it exclaim THERE ARE NO STRINGS ATTACHED A casual boy, it seems, a luck boy it seems, Wolfing looks from its Smith-Corona cradle at me! Obscene, Obscene, Toro! Toro! Yes I'm feeling bullish says he, saucy boy in red ink -- he belongs asleep on a pizza tucked in by CHEESE! Go to, go to pizza prince, the rest is pepperoni silence, sweet basil dreams, adieu! This is the poem speaking--this man is a word shucking huckster; writing poems for free!? Absurd! He must have an angle, a scheme, a scam--this is Miami afterall! Maybe he's conniving a fraudulent Senior home-healthcare scam...insurance scam... It's something--I know it! Keep your eyeballs on him...I would if I could but I'm just a poem you see...