Snail mail
You'd think in our advanced social media world
If we wanted to get our message across
It would be marvelously easy
But I may as well be in the 19th century
Quill pen dipping in India Ink
Scribbling upon fine parchment paper
Rolling the note into a corked bottle
Casting it to the outgoing tide
Awaiting your finding it on your far shore
Going through the same process
To reply
Before we die
For what is any different?
Zuckermen and his analytic logarithms
See to it
Our notes in our bottles
Bobble endlessly out to sea
Unread
Unseen
In obscurity.
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