He's Gone, He's Not Here Any More Poem by Raj Arumugam

He's gone, he's not here any more
He's gone, he's not here any more; no, he doesn't
live here any more; he's left.
Yes, you can send him a letter, send him a note
send him another standard institutional card or mail,
send him
Printed Material Only,
but the mail will not reach him
because he's gone; he's not here any more.
No, he didn't leave a forwarding address; no,
he didn't think anyone would want to contact him
or that anyone would want to go beyond one attempt.
I believe he's left the country.
Yes, they'll send me a note,
he thought,
being on
the database of several mailing lists, his name in
someone's eyes or finger tips once a year
someone told to do this, take the list and
mail a note or a greeting card to everyone on the list
they'll send me a card, but no one will
need to follow up, to trace the person to
present address.
So he must have thought, so he's packed up and gone;
silent as the still air,
silent as soup waiting to be taken.




(from The Migrant - notes of a newcomer (February 1997- July 1998))