The postman comes when I am still in bed. Postman, what do you have for me today? I say to him. (But really I'm in bed.) Then he says; what shall I have him say? This letter says that you are president Of; this word here; it's a republic." Tell them I can't answer right away. It's your duty. No, I'd rather just be sick. Then he tells me there are letters saying everything That I can think of that I want for them to say. I say, "Well, thank you very much. Good-bye." He is ashamed, and turns and walks away. | Discover our Poem Explanations and Poet Analyses!Other Poems of Interest...THE RHINOCEROS by HILAIRE BELLOC CONTRA MORTEM: THE WHEEL OF BEING II by HAYDEN CARRUTH IRELAND; WRITTEN FOR THE ART AUTOGRAPH DURING IRISH FAMINE by SIDNEY LANIER TO NANNETTE FALK-AUERBACH by SIDNEY LANIER |