Poetry from Mark Young

Some Postwoman Poems

Today the post-
woman brought
me the riddle
of the Sphinx. I
walked out to
get it; but on
the way back 
tripped on the
packing tape
which had come
unwrapped in
transit & had 
to crawl like a 
baby the rest 
of the way. The 
ankle wasn't
broken, just 
sprained; but I'm 
using a walking 
stick to get around 
for the next few 
days. Feeling fine
otherwise. Now 
what was that
question again?

*

Today the post-
woman brought
me a satellite
navigation system 

with Bob Dylan
doing the voice-
overs. Worked
fine until we hit

Highway 61. Then 
it stopped giving 
directions & started 
asking me "where 

do I want the 
killings done?"

*

Today the post-
woman brought
me a sacrificial
pig. Looks as if
lamb, like most 
red meat these 
days, is too expen-
sive to be used 
as anything more 
than metaphor.

*

Today the post-
woman brought
me the shade of
Dylan Thomas

who stood in the
hallway & kept
on farting. Now I
know what was

meant by that
"when I was a 
windy boy" thing 
even though he got 

the tense wrong. 

*

Today the post-
woman brought
me a bridge. I'm

waiting for my 
ship to come in
so I can open it.



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