A poem: "Insurance coverage you wouldn't believe"

There once was a woman who drove a red Jeep
She said, "Oh my goodness, insurance ain't cheap!"
As soon as she said it, without skipping a beat,
She witnessed an accident right there on the street:  

An old man had fallen asleep at the wheel
(Perhaps he'd just eaten a very big meal)
Or maybe he just had a cramp in his heel?
Whatever the reason, he caused this ordeal. 

The other driver, uninjured but pissed,
Got out of his car as his engine spewed mist.
"What is your name? There'll be hell to pay!"
He said as he noticed the old man's gray. 

The old fogie said, "Oh, don't be naive,
I've got insurance coverage you wouldn't believe!"
And just like that, the cash fell from the sky,
Like Times Square confetti on New Year's Eve. 

The two men pranced 'round in their piles of cash,
Completely forgetting there'd just been a crash.
They could reschedule the appointments they'd missed,
And could certainly afford to get their cars fixed. 

Back to the lady with the Jeep painted red:
"I need some of that quick, now, stat!" she said.
"How much does it cost? I've just got to know,"
She wanted her own downpour of green snow. 

She called up State Farm and asked for a quote,
But those amateurs could not make even a dollar float.
Feeling defeated, she made one last call
To Purves Insurance, patrons of Little League baseball. 

"Sounds too good to be true," her agent said,
Which left the poor lady just scratching her head.
"But I've got something for you that's almost as great,
And I can offer it to you at a cutthroat rate." 

The lady's new premium was so darn low,
that with the money she saved, she made her own snow.
At Purves Insurance that’s just how it goes,
we’re all better off when you deal with the pros. 

- - - 

(If you’re interested in more insurance poetry, check out “Of Love and Life Insurance: An Argument,” by John Brehm, published in the Summer 2006 edition of The Gettysburg Review.)