David Hernandez - At the Post Office lyrics

The line is long, processional, glacial, and the attendant a giant stone, cobalt blue with flecks of white, I'm not so much looking at a rock but a slab of night. The stone asks if anything inside the package is perishable. When I say no the stone laughs, muted thunderclap, meaning everything decays, not just fruit or cut flowers, but paper, ink, the CD I burned with music, and my friend waiting to hear the songs, some little joy after chemo eroded the tumor. I know flesh is temporary, and memory a tilting barn the elements dismantle nail by nail. I know the stone knows a millennia of rain and wind will even grind away his ragged face, and all of this slow erasing is just a prelude to when the swelling universe burns out, goes dark, holds nothing but black holes, the bones of stars and planets, a vast silence. The stone is stone-faced. The stone asks how soon I want the package delivered. As fast as possible, I say, then start counting the days.