Wednesday, January 06, 2010

There standing still with its big mouth
Is the US Post Mail box

To understand that this box is more than a story,
Is part of a long process
With many hands involved in between:
Simply put from Sender to Addressee

But the sender varies with motive and purpose
To the addressee, who may be surprised
To check in the mailbox a letter or a postcard,
A wedding invitation, birth announcement, death announcement,
A bill, a magazine, a pamphlet,
A package with clothes for kids in Guayaquil
Who would religiously go to Casilla 6241
And look thru its small window opening for news,
Or PO Box 307 in Jackson Heights for letters from Germany.

While the mail box will not disappear before the demise of newspapers,
Its presence is also predicted
With the advent of "e(lectronic) mail",
With its incredible travelling speed conveys what letters would,
But it can't replace
The lipstick smear of a lover,
Or the scented paper from a date,
Or the chocolate stains from a kid,
Or the actual skill involved with handwriting
(this too will disappear).

These newspaper vending machines are empty,
As a sign of the (NY) times
The (NY) Post print era
The daily news ink on the finger tips

No more vending machines,
Soon to follow the newstands and kiosks will disappear off the urban landscape

No more comparing headlines of the same event,
Whether political, criminal or sporting
No more searching for loose pocket change
Or the smell of freshly printed pulp paper.

We used to make paper kites and hats with the newspaper,
Used it for the bird cage;
The butcher for wrapping meats;
Or applying Vick's Vapor on your chest -
A second unwritten life for the same newspaper.

Who can save the newspaper?
Not the news, much less the internet,
Not the cost or stories of ourselves.

See the print era as it was in the caves,
See the print era as it fades from our urban furniture.