We have all sat and read, giggling 
with our friends, the section on 
Craigslist where the rawest truths
of human desperation linger, 
waiting for response. 

Tears roll down our cheeks 
as we visualize the moments 
described. We try to understand
how seconds at the check out 
in Kroger on Richmond road with 
the cashier chewing pink bubble gum 
could light such a fire in someone 
that they go straight home 
to tell the internet all about it. 

Her name tag said Vanessa 
and if she reads this, would she please 
respond? You’re the one who bought 
lunch meat and poptarts.  While we laugh 
there is a silence in the air that reminds us 
we all would not mind to be Vanessa, 
no matter how laughable. 

We discern differences between 
the Missed Connections section and 
our own love mishaps.  Ours are far 
more studios because of the depth 
and knowledge we glean of our other 
when we could call them that.  But then 
I read your poem and realized my name 
could fit where her’s is and the story 
would be the same.