Gone the Mailbox

All the business of the postal service at the holidays
At the post office, the hated post office, where lines greet me
and awful racks of greeting cards
Line walls, ignored.
The post office and its
Perfume of desperation.
The place where scales and stamps sit in dusty corners
Like aristocrats awaiting their bloody fate.
The post office, doomed, because
It is about
PLACE
and we have no
PLACE anymore. We are no longer
PHYSICAL beings
we are no longer
ACTUAL.

We are
e-people, shoving our lives and our
words
(same thing)
around in
Formless
cyber worlds.

The mailbox
Has no shape
Anymore. It’s
A percentage
Full or
empty.
P.O. stands for
Pissed off, that the
WiFi doesn’t work.

Now’s the time to
Collect the actual.
Postcards from
A storied past.
It will be memorabilia
Hot on the auction block
Soon.

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  2 comments for “Gone the Mailbox

  1. December 8, 2011 at 4:17 am

    I love my post office. But then I am just a tad older maybe – I still write letters, though not as much as I used to. I can get to my PO Box 24/7 and in good weather can walk to it. It is a neighborhood gathering place. A small branch one of the few that still appears in good health. I even use postage, older postage, yes vaild postage to decorate envelopes and packages. Which is an amusement for both the clerks as well as those recieving my offerings. I’ve sent 3 post cards to your niece. Just like anything else I suppose if we want our postal system to be healthy we will have to infuse it with ‘new’ blood. Can that blood be found in cyber space?

  2. Johanna Fenton
    December 8, 2011 at 6:54 pm

    Elizabeth. How do I comment on this poem? Forgive me for even daring …

    Something very sad has happened. My family moved. And we now have a hideous mailbox. It is this thin, fiberglass slot among many, with a tiny key that looks too much like other tiny keys.

    I lived in a place called Ukarumpa once. In Papua New Guinea. I had the world’s best mail slot. Wooden. With an old-fashioned key. And I had to walk there – about a mile. And the door of the post office was swung wide-open during open hours. I almost want to cry, just thinking about it.

    And yes, I, too, am extremely demanding about wi-fi. Sad.

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