Hot Lips Pizza

NaPoWriMo, Day 4.

PIZZA PARKING GOES VIRAL

If you want your pie delivered
you can phone your order in,
'cause there's never any parking
and the wait is fairly grim.
So I often walk on over
'cause I'm just a block away,
and my pizza comes home heated
and my hunger goes away. 

Now Ah cain't consume ma pizza
in the restaurant no mo'!
'Cause Corona has infected us
and everything's to go.
But the good news when I'm lazy
is, I never have to walk,
for the parking lot's so empty
that I cannot help but gawk.

No one occupies the spaces
but the little pizza car
so I slide my great big Honda in — 
Hot Lips is not too far.
I'm not grateful for the ill wind
that the virus represents,
just the pizza parking pleasure
that it nonetheless presents.

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Dearly beloved (i.e., blippers),

Many thanks for stars and hearts. I do notice them. I get notified in more than one way. And I savor them, and I appreciate them. So if I don't thank you, know that I'm thanking you in my heart.

Virus Time is kinda hard on my brain, I think. And remembering who to thank and when and how is just too taxing right now. I send you thanks from my heart. I hope that suffices.

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Note about the thumbnail.
I don't know why it's so fuzzy. I tried everything I knew to sharpen it.
It says Hot Lips Pizza on the side of the little car, that was the whole point, but I don't think it's at all legible. 
Mysterious things go wrong in Virus Time. I hope not with you! Be well!