Do you ever worry
That you haven’t quite got it?
That your mailman span and
Dropped on cobbles,
Hastening to deliver your memo?
That, come to think of it,
Your memo’s still pocketed
In his neon-orange jacket
(Which he was entombed with, having died on the job)?
Of course,
You can’t RSVP to that
Which was never received.
Perhaps, sooner or later, in due course,
A gravedigger will exhume the
Good-body-good-mind-effective-relax-efficient-grind-
Memo,
And slip it
Into your expectant claw.
Shorter Poems 