Ground Delivery
by Kathryn Sullivan
(Second Place • Poetry)

If I could promise you a life of happiness
full of easy streets that elude nothing
but comfort in their cobblestones, while the windows you pass
shower you with comfy antiques and slashed prices without
any scars of credit,
I would.
I am afraid to admit that I am not strong enough
To allow you that life
Because I know that it means
You can’t spend it with me.  

I am a sack, a bag, a parcel carried only by the
Strong and brown footed men
Of UPS.
Employees obligated to burden themselves
With someone else’s gifts and problems and promises.
I have some gifts.
I have more problems
and I am out of promises.
That is selfish.
The prince of Halloween deserves
A prize of equal capability and integrity.
Oh prince.
Should I hide you from them? Or should I hide them from you?  

Either way I am an atrocious  

And spiteful
Ruin.  

I know that you merit an underweight parcel
That does not even register a price
On the scale.
I am heavy.
You deserve a feather equal.
So I am trying to lose as much weight as I can.  

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