Friday, May 22, 2009


Of all known parcel services,
United is the wretchedest.
Their driver says I don't exist,
and won't deliver packages.

The office, open after two
(not until two? can that be true?)
Is staffed with friendly ladies who
declare my check will not go through.

They won't take cash, won't take credit,
neither check nor gold* nor debit.
Money order is, they say,
the only way that I can pay.

I begged them, but to no avail.
I pleaded, but my pleadings failed,
So, as a witch might wield a curse,
I'll place a pox on them in verse.

May their trucks dissolve in rust,
may their financiers go bust.
May their stock price crash and fall,
and may their creditors come to call.

May insurance frauds and cheats
write red across their balance sheets,
and may fate forestall these ravages
until I've retrieved my packages.

*I didn't actually offer them gold, but I'm pretty sure they don't accept it. On the other hand who knows, I mean money orders? really?


Anonymous said...

Jesse, you're a peach. I love poems about poxes and curses.
Amanda Lynn

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