The Dead Letter Office closes down

The dead letter office is closing down

because of a failure of management,

and all the not-quite-never-yet notes

will be burnt to the sound of a piped lament.

The manager wouldn’t deal with the mail

and was an inveterate absentee,

he never could care for the sender or sent,

so we’re locking the door and we’re losing the key.

If you aimed a card, or a note, or a cry

too carelessly into the hopeful abyss

please come and claim it—take it back—

you wasted ink and were bound to miss.

From now on all unaccountable post

should be destroyed before it is sent:

forgetting the details won’t be excused,

and we may read it out as a punishment.

The fire will be lit in the dark hours of night,

when dawn is stuck in its casual delay.

All letters not claimed will be chastened to ash

and the smell of their burning will herald the day.