Power’s back on, the car’s dug out, so back to work it is.On the dream of fixing things instantly, actually fixing things slowly, and getting old with your ideal self.<a href="http://www.postofficepoems.com/">postofficepoems.com</a> <a href="http://www.patreon.com/postofficepoems">patreon.com/postofficepoems</a> <a href="http://www.ebenhoffer.com/">ebenhoffer.com</a>

Power’s back on, the car’s dug out, so back to work it is.On the dream of fixing things instantly, actually fixing things slowly, and getting old with your ideal self.postofficepoems.com patreon.com/postofficepoems ebenhoffer.com

Power’s back on, the car’s dug out, so back to work it is.On the dream of fixing things instantly, actually fixing things slowly, and getting old with your ideal self.<a href="http://www.postofficepoems.com/" rel="noopener noreferrer">postofficepoems.com</a> <a href="http://www.patreon.com/postofficepoems" rel="noopener noreferrer">patreon.com/postofficepoems</a> <a href="http://www.ebenhoffer.com/" rel="noopener noreferrer">ebenhoffer.com</a>

Poem #20: after the ice storm

My brother is a letter carrier for the United States Post Office. Every day, he walks around and puts mail into slots on people's houses. He also writes poetry.
Post Office Poems is a series of short meditations on existing in your body in the real world, the joys and tragedies of bureaucracy, and The Mail.
Take a moment with us to consider the glue that holds our mutual lives together: the discount glue, that is only sort of sticky, that you can't get off your shirt.

Society & Culture

Documentary

Health & Fitness

Mental Health

Personal Journals

My brother is a letter carrier for the United States Post Office. Every day, he walks around and puts mail into slots on people's houses. He also writes poetry. Post Office Poems is a series of short meditations on existing in your body in the real world, the joys and tragedies of bureaucracy, and The Mail. Take a moment with us to consider the glue that holds our mutual lives together: the discount glue, that is only sort of sticky, that you can't get off your shirt.

Share Poem #20: after the ice storm

Sign up to save your podcasts

Poem #20: after the ice storm

Poem #20: after the ice storm