Another day, another "incorrect address" stamped in red,
And the post office keeps calling for the residence that's left for dead.
So I marked it as a return to sender, forgetting the sender is me.
I tell them I moved, but my forwarding address is still "maybe".
The clerks keep sorting mail for tenants who checked out years ago,
Routing slips get signed in triplicate, then filed where silt goes.
Someone leaves the front door cracked for packages lacking any claim,
And every morning, the same envelope arrives, marked "same".
Night time arrives, nearly the time to clock out.
But left with endless packages that left me knocked out.
The supervisors stamp "unclaimed" on boxes stacked to the ceiling,
And the night crew whistles past the cages to avoid dealing.
The skyscraper of parcels, almost done with all this tower of bundles,
Still going with no sleep till there's no more left to handle.
Suddenly I dozed off, leaving behind all my work for my future self,
With a dream so good, my body heals every cell and suture.
Until it's morning and the eyes open back to fluorescent glare,
The same red stamp waits on the desk, fresh ink, same old dare.
The shift bell rings. The doors unlock. The queue forms down the street.
And the first package of the day is addressed to last night’s defeat.
May 1
May 1, 2026 at 5:15 AM UTC
Another day, another "incorrect address" stamped in red,
And the post office keeps calling for the residence that's left for dead.
So I marked it as a return to sender, forgetting the sender is me.
I tell them I moved, but my forwarding address is still "maybe".
The clerks keep sorting mail for tenants who checked out years ago,
Routing slips get signed in triplicate, then filed where silt goes.
Someone leaves the front door cracked for packages lacking any claim,
And every morning, the same envelope arrives, marked "same".
Night time arrives, nearly the time to clock out.
But left with endless packages that left me knocked out.
The supervisors stamp "unclaimed" on boxes stacked to the ceiling,
And the night crew whistles past the cages to avoid dealing.
The skyscraper of parcels, almost done with all this tower of bundles,
Still going with no sleep till there's no more left to handle.
Suddenly I dozed off, leaving behind all my work for my future self,
With a dream so good, my body heals every cell and suture.
Until it's morning and the eyes open back to fluorescent glare,
The same red stamp waits on the desk, fresh ink, same old dare.
The shift bell rings. The doors unlock. The queue forms down the street.
And the first package of the day is addressed to last night’s defeat.