I Mailed Myself to Marta

I mailed myself to Marta

Because she moved to France

Her parents said ‘Wah wah wee wah’

And she was gone

Just like that

Marta and I were going to be married

Upon our second grade graduation

That was before her mother got a job

Making beautiful dresses in Paris

And Marta was taken away

In the dark of February vacation

I came back that Monday

With a present to give her

From the Grand Canyon

(It was a little mule named Packy.)

But she was gone

Some men might take this lying down

But I can’t nap when I’m upset

So I found a big box

In my garage

And I’m packing myself inside it

And drawing four stamps on top

So I can be mailed to Marta

(I guess I could have just drawn two stamps, but I wanted to be on the safe side.  It’s possible I’ve gained some weight in the past few days with what my mother calls ‘stress eating.’)

When my mom went out to the mailbox

And found the package

With me inside it

She was a little confused

I explained my problem to her

And she brought me inside the house

Made me a tuna sandwich

And made a few calls

Then came back with an address in France

And a crisp piece of notebook paper

‘Here,’ she said, ‘Write her a letter.’

I was going to say

That a letter won’t be enough

That Marta and I must be together

What if she meets another boy in France?

One who can do long division

And tie his own shoes?

My mother said—

‘Absence makes the heart grow fonder’

But when I’m absent from school

My heart doesn’t miss it at all

When my mom saw me getting upset

She left the kitchen

And came back a few minutes later

With a box full of letters

‘These are from your Dad,’ she said, ‘He wrote them to me’

There were lots and lots of letters

And Mom was smiling just looking at them

I guess if it’s good enough for Dad

It’s good enough for me

But if Marta writes me back

And says one word about a boy named Pierre--

I’m calling UPS