Poem #18: wet mail met wail

January 21, 2021

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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My brother is a letter carrier for the United States Post Office. Every day, he walks around and puts mail into slots on people's houses. He also writes poetry.

Post Office Poems is a series of short meditations on existing in your body in the real world, the joys and tragedies of bureaucracy, and The Mail.

Take a moment with us to consider the glue that holds our mutual lives together: the discount glue, that is only sort of sticky, that you can't get off your shirt.

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