Poem #22: the inner room (goodbye)

I am no longer writing poems about the post office.
On fallen petals, what your mind gets up to if left un-distracted, and the return--at long last-- of the future.

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Poem #21: having time (and time) again

The 60 hour work weeks are gone. 40 is a lot to ask, but we’re nearly there.
On remembering the things you like to do when you have time, practicing route time, and loving things in their own way.

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Poem #20: after the ice storm

Power’s back on, the car’s dug out, so back to work it is.
On the dream of fixing things instantly, actually fixing things slowly, and getting old with your ideal self.

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Poem #18: wet mail met wail

If not for a variety of things, it would have been OK.
On cascading failures, the effects of rainfall on mail delivery, and the goop in your floating-glitter cell phone case.

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Poem #16: The knack of being loved

The care home where my route begins is divided into three sections, the last of which is where they care for those who are beginning to drift.

On newspapers, reminding people of their name, and the knack of being loved.

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Poem #15: Covid case at my station

Covid case at my station. How's work going, man?
On contacts of contacts not counting as contacts, checking in, and doing the things that somebody has to do.

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Poem #14: Unrest

WHAT THE MIDDLE CLASSES DO DURING QUARANTINE

On the people who Get The Mail, the impulse to not give a shit, and something, not exactly sure what, about empathy and its boundaries.

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Poem #13: Elections (meet the candidates)

During the primary I felt good about being a necessary part of our democratic process but I feel nothing right now except sore.
On the distinction between state and federal labor law, delivering negative campaigns materials to their target candidate, and the mailboxes that pinch one's fingies.

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Poem #12: Accosted by sentiment

Mostly out til after dark delivering these days.
On glowing animal eyes in the headlamp, defending the house, and a particular bunch of red, red apples.

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Poem #9: Elections (General)

The post office sent out little cards with helpful information about mailing in your ballot.
On glossy little cards, being despair's sucker, and going back to work.

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Poem #8: Elections (Primary)

Do we romanticize the right stuff about The Mail? Should we romanticize it at all?
On collaboration, unionization, and trust (occasionally founded): delivering the primaries in Oregon.

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Poem #7: Ten CCAs

OF THE TEN CCAs WHO HAVE BEEN ASSIGNED TO MY STATION DURING MY TENURE.
On injuries, setting a timer, and open positions at Target.

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