He steps out of a climate-controlled truck,
Determined to converse — that’s fine, 
I’m not busy or anything. 

“God it’s hot in here.”
“Well is the money alright?” 
I’ve worked harder for less. 
“Your generation doesn’t even know what work is.”
Guess not. 

I attempt my escape but the 
Mailman has made himself quite comfy;
He is leaning on the pallet 
Jack and I am anchored by etiquette. 
He continues his relentless barrage: 

“Yeah I’ll retire in a few years and live off the 
Property I’m renting.”
Ah, you’re a landlord.

Well, man, we’re understaffed on a
Good day and today ain’t one 
So I’d better get back to it. 

I check my bank account again, 
One can never be too safe. 
After all,

Rent is due.