Sonnet XIV: Gift Note

With phone wedged between my shoulder and ear
I write a message, receipt paper scrawl
She spoke clear, I pretend I didn’t hear
Repeat her words back and hang up the call
Mad dash to make it pretty, it’s a gift
It’s their first day, a gift to say good luck
The biggest order filled thus far this shift
The driver’s here, the handle’s broken, fuck
No one will die from a gift being late
Left hand smudge, throw the gift note away
I’m not affecting someone else’s fate
So why does my ink-smudged hand shake this way?
Though some assume violence bends our will
Human desire to please is stronger still