PAD Day 5: Hard Times for the Gods

I'll start today with a shameless plug: Please note the clickable image on the right, the cover of my new full-length poetry collection, The Bungalow of Colorful Aging, published by Kelsay Books and available through Amazon.com, or directly from the publisher at kelsaybooks.com.  If you would like an autographed copy directly from me, leave me a message in the comments and I will tell you how you can get one.

Today's dual prompts from Write Better Poetry and NaPoWriMo: (1) Write a "makes sense" and/or "doesn't make sense" poem, and (2) write a poem about a mythical person or creature doing something unusual, at least something unusual in relation to that person/creature. My poem gives just a passing nod to the first prompt, I suppose, and focuses more on the second. 

Underemployed
 
What am I doing in this dead-end job?
I have so many talents―I could have been
a rich, successful businessman,
a great public speaker, a communicator,
a travel agent, a casino manager,
a funeral director, guiding souls
to the afterlife. I could have even been
a musician―after all, I invented the lyre.
 
Instead, I deliver flowers. My boss has never
thanked me for saving him a ton of money―
I don't need a delivery van,
just my winged helmet and sandals.
Yeah, that's me on the logo.
 
I'm in a rut. It makes no sense.
I tried one of those job search sites,
but when I entered for experience,
"Ancient God," my computer crashed.
There's not much call for us these days.
The only thing that keeps me going
are the smiles that greet the flowers and me
at the door.  Excuse me a moment―
 
"Two dozen long-stemmed roses for Ms. Williams?"