Postman (a poem)

postieI sit and wait for you to come
To the door
I sit and wait for letters to drop
Onto the floor

Some times you’re early
But you’re never late
I suspect you’re quite burly
By how you shove the gate

Giros, postcards
And bills
Letters, death threats
and thrills

Parcels,
Junkmail
Fingers
Squashed snails

Greetings
Cheques
Bleatings
Mail order keks1

None of it
For me.
Because this is not my house
You see
For I am the burglar

1 Keks = trousers

Published by

stegzy

Once, long ago, I wrote frequently on Livejournal. I then moved to Blogspot, where I discovered that blogging requires an audience. So I moved back to LJ. Then over to Dreamwidth, back to LJ, up the road of self hosting with Muckybadger before giving up entirely and moving over to Wordpress. It was at that moment I decided I would spread my compostual nonsense simultaneously across the blogosphere like some rancid margarine. And so here I am. I am a badger. But then I'm not really a badger. I am a human. With badger like tendencies. I am a writer, a film producer and a social commentator. I am available for Breakfast TV shows, documentaries and chats in the pub with journalists where I am more than qualified enough to talk confidently about absolute shite and bollocks.