Perched above, I see your fastidious eyes,
feasting on the road ahead,
Determination on your face.
As I reverse the truck, you wrap around,
Lips smirked with confidence,
And as you pass, a fist or finger, your goodbye.
I find myself stuck,
And, of course, I wonder why.
Speeding away with a smile on your face,
And a well-deserved pat on the back,
as that damn delivery driver couldn’t block you.
If ever you step down from Olympus, for an instant,
Before weary of landing in Hades,
And expecting Charon to cross you,
There is a price to pay, for I, the delivery driver,
am responsible for delivering that brand new color TV to your Grandpa