Tagged: stamp

the corporations

the corporations
will always find us first, before
anyone else can

rattle our address off the
tip of their tongues, lick a stamp

at the edge of every

at the edge of every
moment, you can
look, but not
feel, but
not make sense –
the seconds rub
their wings together,
the milliseconds
loosen their
grip. it’s the
perfect setup

a postcard moment
for those
without stamps

stamping forever

with a worn fingernail, time

with a worn fingernail, time
finally has a good hold
on the corner
of that last memory
composed of your
lips and why we
could not resist,
slowly peeling
back the stickiness
of six months,
coaxing away the
old hinges with care.
even then, the castoff
recollection curls around
the edges, leaving
behind a brand new
level of distant



you went to the post
office on tuesday to
estimate the number of
stamps it would take
to bring out all the
crazies. waiting in
a nine yard line, you
weighed the clever
dose of extra
patience injected
into the service system
since the one-penny-
increase went into
effect. you calculated
the exact difference
between the volume
coming from the
confusion and that of
the faithful postman.
the line squirmed, and
you stepped up, tongue
ready, to receive
your holy
one-cent communion