tied my shoes and postmen

I left a tip and legged my way to the post office.
I bent over zig zag, tying my shoes as though they were a stroke of luck.
I folded and my shoes tied themselves.
I took my time and tied my left and right in turn.
Nothing seemed real, but I did not want it to be over.
I did not want my shoes to be tied.
I was winding them so they wouldn’t be.
I was Kierkegaard. I tied my shoes and almost cried.
I would have but my nose itched.
I picked it into submission.
I was still bending over and was done with my shoes.
What else was there to do?
I was walking in the rain with my head down,
only without the rain.
I sent some things by the American Postman.
The postal men and women are heroes.
I legged it home and fell asleep.

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