The Postman and the Broker

The postman's wife tried her best to keep from shaking
the light plastic video camera as the postman
(through even what seemed in the video to be an earthquake)
walked his close-to-the-ground walk, stepped onto a brick stoop
and sent a tight handful of envelopes through someone's rusty mail slot. 

Did you hear, asked the broker's wife,
that the post doesn't come on Saturdays anymore? 
He barely looked up from his own face in their local Tribune
and she barely looked up from admiring
the contrast between orange juice and floral tablecloth. 
Ah, said the broker. 

The postman's wife didn't spend a second glance
on the YouTube side banner ad for a desperate

firm of some sort in New Jersey;

to budget they cancelled their newspaper subscription.  

She called her husband over;

they spent Sunday afternoon replaying "Jim's Last Saturday Delivery"

The broker's wife bought six newspapers that day.
Her name was Susan. 


-Citron