Thank Your Oar-Like Arms
Colin James

From an upstairs window we watched
a delivery truck negotiate every inch.
Nervously formulaic attitudes
draped in fossil furs.
So weird, brown shorts, brown shirt
and suitably, carefully backing in.
Demure as diesel, dam you.
Worshipful package we await your holistic worthiness.
Longer if you count centuries.
I don't, she doesn't, he doesn't.
All modifiable in cartoon time.
The driver knocked on our door.
We took turns theorizing our readiness.
The driver left a package outside on a bench.
We could have been sitting there waiting.
 I didn't get a good enough look
 to identify the angel.
 He was my type alright,
 and you confirming
 nodding in agreement hysterically.

Colin James Has a chapbook of poems, DREAMS OF THE REALLY ANNOYING, available from Writing Knights Press.