Mailman

As a mailman,

He often wonders—

Is prone to wonder on his

            Long workdays alone

            With nothing but

            His little, white box-car,

            The radio,

            And boxes and letters—

            And letters and boxes.

He often wonders

About the people whose

Job it is to seal the spam mail envelopes—

He wonders if they hate the paper cuts they get worse than

The people who seal the worthwhile mail hate theirs.

He often wonders about the people who type up the spam mail—

Wonders if they know the futility

Of their Five-to-Nine typing job.

He wonders about the

People who dream up the sayings that will

                                                Shortly line the trashcan—

                                                Trashcans up and down the street and

                                                All over the city,

                                                All over the state—

                                                The world even?

                                                Well, yes, quite possibly the world.

But then,

He has to wonder,

If those people wonder—

If anybody            Wonders

About the people who deliver the spam mail.

 

Reviews

[Dressed in Poetry]

Oh! It looks like a person! I love that!

I like the poem as well. It's interesting.