So, I was sitting in blue chair reading Kunitz:

When I stand in the center of that man's madness,

Deep in his trauma, as in the crater of a wound,

My ancestors step from my American bones.

...

The impossible creatures of an hysteriac's dream

Advancing with hatchets sunk into their skulls

To rip the god out of the machine

...

Now I wait under the hemlock by the road

For the red-haired postman with the smiling hand

To bring me my passport to the war.

...

Around the curve; he coasts up my drive; the day

Strikes noon: I think of Pavlov and his dogs

And the motto carved on the broad lintel of his brain:

"Sequence, consequence, and again consequence."

...

No, David you were not alone and it's only the postman, no need to be alarmed.