My pleasure to serve
My pleasure to fix
My pleasure to give
My pleasure to help
My pleasure
Fast food restaurants never serve spinach,
spoils soon, raises costs reduces profits.
Do not greet me to dine with Yogi bear.
Creep Speak, servant robots obey the boss
Greasy floor is no picnic with red pear.
My pleasure
I’m number five in line in the drive-through.
Badass behind honks horn and curses shit.
A bag of Reece Pieces in my car,
I get out and give him the solution.
“Hungry? Maybe this eases your heart wait.”
He says nothing but stops noise pollution.
My pleasure
Coyote carcass on the road in lanes
Hook a wince I haul it off to safety
There’s a man who drives wild past every day
coming and going, today makes contact
This one time he stops to help and I say.
Caroline Gerardo copyright © November 10, 2017
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