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.