Postal Angst

The mail came again today,
More stuff to pile high.
Magazines there's no time to read,
And bills up to the sky.

There's tons of shiny catalogs,
The holidays must be near.
If I bought stuff from every one of them,
I'd be broke within a year.

There's credit cards galore to have,
These people must be nuts.
To think I've got the credit,
To warrant charging ten thousand bucks.

There's charities that want my dough,
Cute labels they do send.
They're very nice, but some advice?
Spell my name right now and then?

There's the sample of some stinky stuff,
I throw down on the floor.
My cat just kind of circles it,
Then beelines for the door.

We've sure come far from those old days,
Of the brave pony express.
The mail's just full of junk now,
And that makes me so depressed.