They’re always bidding you
To delay
Or return outright.
Lost keys,
No making change for a hundred,
And your vehicle!

Oh, the structural damage they’ve done
On the about-town joyride
They’ve taken you for
While you were distracted.

Upholstery trashed
Paint job ruined
Bumpers missing
Tires slashed
Gas tank empty

Why do you put up with this?
Sane people would complain
So loudly
With such elegance
And blasphemy
That God Herself
Would come running
With legions of angels
In the Vanguard
Clearing out
The valet parking for hell
And lighting
The now clear path
Home.

(c) Sare Liz Anuszkiewicz, 2017