In the suburban Post Office
by the card rack
tiers and tiers of platitudes
for every eventuality
two adorable thin ladies stand
(they could be twins:
equal height, curled hair
making aureoles of their heads
springy energy like metre
in their stance). “We like
your writing,” they chorus.
“We are your fans.” Oh quick
is my favourite word and now
it’s given back by two
I like immensely in return.