We’ve instant coffee, instant tea,
Soaps that suds up instantly;
Planes are streamlined, faster, stronger–
But the mail takes a little longer.
We’ve this that’s quicker, that and those;
Press a button, wash the clothes.
Some things progress; but, in arrears,
The mail goes hack a hundred years.
We laugh at, and we make a spectacle
Of anything that’s unelectrical;
And now, thanks to our wizards sage,
We ‘re edging the atomic age.
The world may move; the PO stays
The good old horse and buggy days….
by Ray Romine Saturday, March 29, 1952
