Schubert and Daddy Long Legs at the Drive-Through Window

Vanity invades me the most
Trivial ways conceivable:

As I crank up the classical
At the taco pick-up window

The daft thought dancing through my head
Is that this makes me impressive,

And it's important to impress
The limp-fingered, pimply teller

Who no doubt must suffer endless
Encounters with country music

And teenaged top-twenty twaddle
Bumping from customers' speakers

As they pull up to her window.
How nice for her to hear Schubert,

How pleasantly she'll recall me
Next time I pick up my taco.

My reverie's interrupted
By shadows scrawling on the wall

Just below the teller's elbow.
A daddy long legs in the sun

Crawls toward opportunities
I can only guess at, maybe

To mate another harvestman
Or to eat a bit of taco.

The teller doesn't notice it.
Its shadow lengthens grotesquely,

Long as the claw of a vampire,
Sliding over the windowsill,

Such a grisly melodrama
From such a harmless little thing

I think, pleased now with my vision
Of life as a bug in the sun.