The Postie

He quietly sought a safe location
A few packages balanced in hand
A pause then beep from the scan
Off to the next door upper level
Church and state long discarded
Belief systems constructed anew
Perhaps the safety of former lovers
Or working out at the gym 3:30am
Those older certainties now vanished
Still believing in the dignity of work
Soon to be replaced by a machine
The march of progress until when
Microplastics blocked out the sun
Lord ships safely landed on Mars
Postie round done buildings crumble
The perfect elevation of humankind
Audit found some missed indicators