Sunday, November 15, 2015

By Morning, Disaster; By Afternoon, Despair

What the fucking hell is this?
Another dunning, a fresh demand?
Passed like poison from the hand
of the postman, Satan's accomplice?

What's this annoying stupid shit?
Disguised to look as if it matters?
Faux certified, in official patterns
denoting nothing, largely writ?

Begone, hateful courier in blue!
With your clanking keys on a pocket chain!
With writhing form and crawling brain,
daring to stamp it "postage due!"

Sure as pestilence, slow as a snail!
Stuffing my slot with each babbling ad--
driving me nervous, driving me mad!
Curse you, eagle who bird-bombs the mail!

Mailed in, for Susie's challenge at Real Toads. She asks us for the real thoughts behind the faces in John Millais's portraits.

Historical note: Up until the early 1950s, there were two mail deliveries each day, morning mail and afternoon mail, hence the title.


Kerry O'Connor said...

You had me with the first line. I do appreciate the irony of this poetic derision of the mail service from you! It adds to the overall humour which has me in stitches.

hedgewitch said...

This cracked me up. The solemn portrait makes a perfect contrast for the sarcasm of real life. I bet you are thankful those double daily deliveries are history( as this painting is--I don't think anyone writes real letters anymore, do they?) Love the rhymes, and your tags as well, though there's nothing yard sale about this except the sadness of the junk involved in the postal roulette you detail so excruciatingly.

Sherry Blue Sky said...

two mail deliveries, my goodness! I remember when a stamp cost two cents and was mailed in Vancouver and delivered in Kelowna THE NEXT DAY. And now, a stamp is a dollar and it takes for freaking ever to get anywhere. I enjoyed this poem hugely.

Rommy said...

Bwa-ha-ha-ha...Oh this is awesome! I was just thinking the other day that if I used some of my junk mail for kindling this winter, that would give them a more honorable purpose than they previously had filling my mail box and paper recycling trash can.

Outlawyer said...

Ha! It is certainly true that they try to fool us. I'm not sure they were quite as flagrant back then, but maybe. The disconnect of the face and the blue bird is very funny, Shay. Thanks. k.

Susan said...

Hahaha! And yet, surely the postman here is a jailer, delivering the message of doom.

Ella said...

I am laughing my ass off~ I knew you would pick this one and I loved what you did with it~ Bravo

Susie Clevenger said...

Yes, I love this, especially since it is from you and a tirade against snail mail. My mother used to snarl and complain each time she got junk mail. She never chased the mail truck though! lol Thanks so much for taking part in the prompt!!

Marcoantonio Arellano said...

i have felt the angst of receiving something via mail. 1969 draft notice to go to 'nam'!

Shawna said...

This is awesome. I'm totally picturing a present-day Emily Dickinson writing this.

This is priceless:
"Passed like poison from the hand
of the postman, Satan's accomplice?"

If she's this worked up about the junk she did get, I can't help but wonder if she's really mad about what she was expecting/hoping to arrive that didn't.

Mama Zen said...

This is freaking hilarious!