Thursday, April 21, 2011

Mail

I'm sure I got your letter, I just didn't look at it. I didn't even take it out of the mailbox. Most of the time I forget I have a mailbox, it's bolted to a brick wall on the porch, I'll wake up past noon and the sun'll set behind it. It's just part of a big shadow, a big obscure thought while I stare out at the sunset with sunglasses on, so my eyes don't get hurt. I'll drink a coffee as though I need the energy to stand here and smile then dawdle through the night, and I'll do the same thing tomorrow. I'll hope that the phone doesn't ring me out of bed before the sun's where I'm used to it being, and I'll hope I don't see the heaping pile of browning letters damp with dew all pleading me to wake up earlier.

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