You sent me
                                        fra
                                                           g
                                                    me                                  nt

After

f                               r    a           gm
                                 e                              

                                                             n
                                            t

of thoughts, wonders, bitter commentary,
shot like darts
in my direction,
& I caught every note
of your needs
& then you left,
& here I am,
left picking up
tiny paper airplanes

She laughed & told me
life's not fair
& if there's anything that I learned
in school that week,
it was that

sometimes, the dunes
are not caressed by the ocean waves,
not kissed goodnight
in laps of foamy seas in high tides.

Some nights, the darkness
of the atmosphere is not illuminated,
not awakened by nature's nightlight
O, how the stars ache!

Sometimes, green-painted men
are shipped across oceans
like little plastic toys
to **** people they've never met.

What does it mean when
ear-charming, dressed up
collections of sound
what a nation wants to hear
does not match the honest
desperation, heart screams
it isn't that way
of pleading eyes?