in a package
postmarked
stamford, connecticut.
the keys were wrapped in
a piece of gray shirting,
snug in a nest
of brown paper.
one key fit the storeroom,
one the back door,
and one started the truck.
i made this set last year
for merlin van tornhout.
so he could work the graveyard shift.
well, merlin,
at least you didn’t give them to the klan.