the mailman

when I got home
I took off all my clothes
and walked around
the house
while drinking beer
and trying to sing
like King Diamond

until I heard
the mailman
come up the walk
and then drop something
in the box
I briefly
considered throwing
my clothes back on
then decided that this
would be more interesting
so I opened the front door
and walked out
with nothing on

and over to the mailbox
got the mail
and on the way back to the door
I watched the street
and houses across it
to be sure
the thrill
was all mine.

Ronan Barbour was taken from Canada at age four and left in Santa Clara, California,
where his remains would likely be found if he was to suddenly die. His written work
has appeared in Literary Vision Magazine, My Favorite Bullet, remark, Thieves
Jargon, Unlikely Stories, and Zygote In My Coffee.

Contact him at:

2005 Underground Voices