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# Postcards
- URL: https://www.fsm.ink/postcards/
- Published: 2025-02-15T17:23:00.000Z
- Updated: 2026-06-03T18:02:22.000Z
- Author: Staff
- Tags: Poetry, #Import 2026-08-03 09:59

*by Troy Schoultz*

*For David J. Thompson*

Behind this windshield of salt, frost and grime  
I pass buildings that rose before the dead  
Were pulled from wombs, and slapped until they sucked air,  
And they will block the afternoon sun  
Long after I’m in some shitty urn.  
February will ruin you  
If you allow it. Living in a climate cold enough  
To kill. Glacier freeways slick in the sun.  
Sirens sound from Saturday to Sunday.  
Everything screams before it moves.  
Icicles grow long from the roof’s edge  
Like wizard judgement,  
But your postcards keep arriving  
In colored ink, clip art, cryptic quotes  
And amused despair  
Writ large with anecdotes of experimental diets, exotic pets,  
And a batshit crazy girlfriend  
Who may or may not be fictional.  
These weekly gifts keep me level.  
I collect each one  
In case you ever get famous,  
Before or after you take up residence  
In an urn of your own.

Troy Schoultz is a former lecturer at the UW-Oshkosh campuses, and author of three poetry collections. He also hosts *Mr. Troy’s LoFi Motel Radio Hour* on 101.9 Oshkosh FM. Currently Troy is director of the Literary Arts at Thelma (LAT) at the Thelma Sadoff Center for the Arts in Fond du Lac.