E-Mail

Oh, why do I dare to check my e-mail?
So popular I am, I can cry.

Aren't I lucky? The thought flutters, and I open
my inbox, the door to my castle.
Oh, no! Peasants have risen
to dethrone royalty.
For two days, the count is
four hundred sixty-seven.
First Jet-Blue requests five surveys
three-minutes after I've deplaned.

Oh, why do I dare to check my e-mail?
So confused I am, I can cry.

Next, E-Harmony, Christian Mingle
Don't they know I'm not single?
And why, in this jungle, my name's everywhere
for lawyers with lip to represent me
for accidents I didn't have?
Plus, those offers...Canadian Pharm,
Spellbound Pheromones, do I need testosterone,
Milk-a-Deal, Wazza Deal, five for one,
I've won a ton. Get the feel?

Oh, why do I dare to check my e-mail?
So ticked-off I am, I can cry.

Where's the pact to serve me
as one of royalty, a lady, a duchess or such
with written word in lightning speed,
photos to receive from friends,
greetings and news, if just a few,
and fine projects to spot and share?
Such functional fare, real cheap, benefits galore...
The best. Yet, how can I chew the rest?
Wouldn't this make my teeth fall
before, in one swoop, I delete it all?

Oh, why did I dare to check my e-mail?
So worn-out I am, I can cry.


35 lines – 231 words