Saturday, January 16, 2010

The Mission

Key in the ignition
I give it a turn
There's a job to do and
I've a paycheck to earn

The rig on the car's roof
Is brightly aglow
With blue and with red
As I drive into the snow

A detour ahead
This makes me angry
The forces of darkness
Want to halt the delivery

Nothing will stop me
I mustn't be late
There's joy on the line
It's goodness at stake

The GPS says
To take the loop around
But I'll shave off minutes
By going downtown

There's ice all around
I don't touch the brake
I take the curve as quick
As the tires can take

My passenger sits
Silent and still
Unable to know
That the danger is real

Flat cardboard boxes
Zipped in warm insulation
They must be delivered
Despite all trepidation

The three of them rest
As one priceless prize
Each of them costing
Just five ninety-nine

A car cuts me off
I roll down the window
And quickly I flash
My one-finger signal

I abruptly change lanes
The game starts at nine
I know I can make
The party on time

Not speed-limit signs
Not red traffic lights
Nothing will stop
These single-topping delights

I check the address
This must be guy
Inside there is laughter
And colorful lights

I pull up to the curb
Yank the e-brake
A glance at my watch
Shows we're not too late

The cargo and I go
Waltz up to the door
I push the bell button
Then depress it once more

The man has a goatee
His hair's poorly arranged
He hands me a twenty
And asks for the change

What can this mean?
No tip do I get?
I've risked violent death
The dangers I've met!

My heart is heavy
My resolve becomes stronger
If the goatee wants pizza
Next time he'll wait longer

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