#2302 -- there’s never any mail anymore

 

2302

7.109

20.iv.26

there’s never any mail anymore

 

objects arrive

wrapped things

no mail

 

there are waves

mysterious waves

 

it’s Sunday

keeps washing in

 

a box by the side of the road

the sky shakes

 

I am getting the message

 

thin air

I think that they are listening too

 

are from a great distance

 

it’s not to say that nothing’s been posted

 

they lick at the envelope back

           at the stamp

 

these are all forms of possession

 

it’s as if the letters were out there

the wish of them

 

as if they’d been sent

sent long since

in a blue moon once

in Bush Week

 

always Sunday now

nothing’s delivered

 

it’s as if they’d been posted

mid forest

a cloud stood

 

where are trees now?

 

somehow the future was always too far

 

like light from a hitherto unnamed galaxy

 

will the arrow fall short?

some barren world?

 

no, the arrow still flies

 it never fails

 

eyes were better

stars were bright

 

it was a penny to everywhere then

 

I like the map of Australia

I like the kangaroo

 

asleep in my chair in the afternoon

I dream that a letter’s arrived