Life Is Like a Package
Life is like a package that arrives in the mail:
a present for your sister.
Unable to open it, you squeeze it,
massage its shape with your fingers.
At first it feels like a squirt gun.
Then it bears resemblance to a miniature loom.
Unable to determine what it is, you set it
on the stove where your sister will be sure to see it.
Then you see that it’s for you, not your sister.
You and she have similar names: unfortunate.
As soon as you realize this, you are frozen:
hands stuck to hips, sneakers fixed on linoleum.
Life is like the moment you freeze,
dozens of thoughts flying through your head.
The knife is on the table.
The ceiling fan has stopped, too.
Suddenly your sister walks in from work,
picks up the package, disappears into the living room.
You hear the sound of paper tearing, a tiny chuckle —
and then a bloodcurdling scream, then nothing.
Life is the experience of waiting as night sets in,
watching the starlight glide in through the windows,
wondering what became of your sister,
but being relieved you didn’t open the package.
–Aaron Belz