Today's the day you didn't write to me.
I know, because I climbed inside my mailbox and looked
around just to make sure.
At first I thought, well... maybe the postage
fell off on the way here. It could happen.
The postal worker would see the glue residue
from the stamp but know that even
though you had put a stamp, now that it wasn't there,
well... he also knows that according to
Postal Code 19/b
you can't send something on a lick & a promise.
There must be an actual postage stamp.
Then I got to thinking, maybe you had every intention
of writing to me, but your favorite Lucy rerun
came on, where the chocolate is coming
down the conveyer, and it is going faster
and faster. Well, I have seen enough Mattlocks
and Perry Masons to know you have to prove
intent. I can't really prove you intended
to write to me.
That leaves hiring practices. I know the Post
Office hires wounded Vets. I also know now that,
Vets means military and not veterinarians, and depending
on the wound and it's affect on
one's mental ability to cognitively organize house
numbers, so they aren't all jumbled up or
reversed dyslexidly,
well... in short - your letter to me could be
in one of the mailboxes down the street.
better go check.
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