by Carol, Everett Public Library staff
I can’t remember the last time I sat down with a book of poems, a hot mug of deliciousness, and delved into the world of poetry. That would be because I hate poetry with the fiery hot passion of a thousand suns. It’s usually either completely esoteric or so aloof that I just cannot relate to it, no matter how hard I try.
All that changed last year when staff were asked to read their favorite poems and have them recorded and posted to YouTube. Ever the narcissist, I was eager to participate but hadn’t a clue as to what I could read. After countless misdirects and let-downs (no, you can’t read your mom’s cousin’s poems—they have to be in the library) I finally discovered Good Poems: American Places, selected and introduced by Garrison Keillor. Now, GK may be a very polarizing personality (love him or hate him, there is no in between, am I right?) but I was hopeful because he’s humorous. Even if I don’t always get or want his humor, he’s funny and so I thought maybe these poems would be funny, too.
Some are. Some aren’t. But in its pages I found this little gem that spoke to me:
Why I Have a Crush on You, UPS Man by Alice N. Persons
you bring me all the things I order
are never in a bad mood
always have a jaunty wave as you drive away
look good in your brown shorts
we have an ideal uncomplicated relationship
you’re like a cute boyfriend with great legs
who always brings the perfect present
(why, it’s just what I’ve always wanted!)
and then is considerate enough to go away
oh, UPS Man, let’s hop in your clean brown truck and elope!
ditch your job, I’ll ditch mine
let’s hit the road for Brownsville
and tempt each other
with all the luscious brown foods—
roast beef, dark chocolate,
brownies, Guinness, homemade pumpernickel, molasses cookies
I’ll make you my mama’s bourbon pecan pie
we’ll give all the packages to kind looking strangers
live in a cozy wood cabin
with a brown dog or two
and a black and brown tabby
I’m serious, UPS Man. Let’s do it.
Where do I sign?
Our UPS Man is a great guy. His name is Monty and he always has a smile on his face and a quip ready to roll. He and his colleagues in the package delivery industry work hard, are highly accurate and stay personable—that’s my definition of good customer service. They are unsung heroes, and as someone who works in an “invisible” public service department (cataloging) I know he probably never hears accolades or has his praises sung. He and his fellow drivers deserve a poem. They deserve this poem.
So I hereby dedicate this poem to Monty and all his counterparts around the world. But don’t read too much into my dedication. It would never work out between Monty and me. I’m happily married and so is he—to different people. We don’t need love to make our relationship work, however. He knows my shopping tastes and I know how adorable his little boy is. We have a working relationship that is professional while at the same time fun. And that’s enough for me.