tax season

you hand your tax
lady
your accounting
books for last year.
your w-2's, your
interest numbers,
gains and losses
of your stocks,
you give her your
mileage driven
to get work done,
stubs and receipts,
you bake her
an apple pie and give
her a gallon
of french vanilla
ice cream.
you tell her how
nice she looks.
that she's getting
younger looking
every time you
see her. don't
make me laugh,
she says and i'll
try and keep us
both of jail
one more year.