The mail comes

by Catherine Whiteley
Wild Poetry Forum
Second Place, September 2012
Judged by Troy Jollimore


The mail comes,

nothing but bills and a note
from an avocado asking me to rip its skin open.
Fucking avocados and their junk mail.

I miss you.

Upstairs cab fare is hidden in a sock, my mother
taught me this. When my father died she turned
the house upside down looking for a check
to pay the funeral home.

The truth?
I miss you – what else matters?

The urn was brass. I imagined it a football,
tucking him under my arm and making
a dash to the car, to the freeway — to anyplace
that wasn’t there.

I think the mailman has stolen your postcards.


he surprise of the “avocado asking me to rip its skin open” and of the line that follows are at the heart of the reader’s enjoyment of this poem. The last line is evocative and mysterious. ---Troy Jollimore

  • July 2018 Winners

    • First Place

      The First Time I Drank With My Father
      by Ken Ashworth
      The Waters

      Second Place

      My Bicycle
      by Andrew Dufresne
      Wild Poetry Forum

      Third Place

      J. Alfred Prufrock Searches for Mrs. Right
      by Laurie Byro
      Babilu

  • June 2018 Winners

    • First Place

      Poem in Exile in the Style of Neruda
      by Ken Ashworth
      The Writer's Block

      Second Place

      Either February or March
      by Brenda Morisse
      Wild Poetry Forum

      Third Place

      Accidental Writer
      by Bernard Hamel
      Wild Poetry Forum

      Honorable Mention

      Mouse in April’s Winter
      by Alison Armstrong-Webber
      The Waters

      Honorable Mention

      Sister Valeria
      by Siva Ramanathan
      The Writer's Block

      Honorable Mention

      My Trip: The Last Siona Dream
      by Don Schaeffer
      Babilu