Death Peddlers

Death Peddlers
By Chrisp


There they are at all four corners of highway 321.
They are looking for profit and having some fun.

They smile and say “Thank You” as they peddle their wares.
The police see it all, how little they care.

Right out in the open they sell poison and death.
Sounds like an opening for a play like Macbeth.

I tried to avoid them, I feel safe in my car
I know where they come from, I know who they are.

There are ten cars in front of me, if I could just make the light.
Everything will be good, and my world will be right.

I’m caught at the corner; the light changes to Red.
I must avoid their sweet poison or soon I’ll be dead.

My hands start to sweat, an addict you know.
Don’t make me do it, please let me go.

Their little smiles broaden, they have seen me before.
I roll up the window, and check the lock on the door.

She taps on the window just sweet as can be.
I try not to look; she can’t be talking to me.

She sticks her head to the window, I got a bargain today.
Two for twelve dollars what do you say?

I hand her a twenty, and tell her “you keep the change”.
She squeals with delight, now I know I’m deranged.

My hands begin to shake as I open the box.
This is going to cost me another week in detox.

I have my twelve donuts: Krispy Kremes they would be.
I’ll stay in my car where no one can see.

I ’m happy for now, who cares what I weigh.
I’ll go on a diet till next Saturday.