Cruising around in her big, bad snow colored wagon
She throws fists full of candy out of her side windows
And smiles at all the lovely children as she glides by.
Polluting the streets with her thick clouds of toxic love,
She embarks on her maiden voyage across town square,
On a mission to alleviate the work load of someone else.
After hours of traveling to and fro, she sets off for home.
Spitting gravel onto the necks of parted drives behind her,
The sun shining on her and her foul-mouthed motor machine.
With no warning, she slams her foot down upon his brake &
Makes her way inside her home to make herself a plate.
Hotdogs, macaroni and cheese, with a handful of cheerios.
With her belly full and her head in need of something more,
She turns on her life line, reclines, and sees who is on.
Here she finds the man who creeps and gives him a sigh.
Why haven't you brought with you the device for stored faces?
She asks the creep, who doesn't have the answer to her plea.
One day, I'll get it for you, but today is not that day.
But the creep had a plan, because he was clever and wise,
(at least in his own eyes.) He'd write her this poem instead.
Maybe, if it made her day, her face would be the first to show.