Role switch. We’re editing a poem for you.
We are not unversed in universal postcard theory. I hear it’s packed with shrill ideology, multivalent intelligence & ultra-experimental conversation. But postcards, my good man, they feel good as marginal surprises.

Less marginal, we, you & I, are writing where the living speak up to the dead, like hushed correspondents in negative space boasting of their willingness to find compromise. The dead always drop the ball. I’m now looking at the limo suv waiting to take us on. By now thinking for the dead is challenging but I have practiced warrior politics a bit. You, too. That’s a fact, just as outlaws & heroes are arbitrarily broken up by the parking arcade & ample doorways out where copy like ours gets re-acquainted with news. & it’s officially sanctioned.