Dear, Brad,

Construction paper
pulled together
by a golden brad--
blustered weather
at her head and foot--

She held the kite strings
with both hands
and blink-blinked
as the kite flew-crashed
into the wet morning grass.

Brad, dear, you are fishing for compliments.
I will, put aside my irritation and oblige, but
this may have bitter side effects. It's just
the nature of things... don't fear.

You are:
reliable, hospitable, creative,
clever, intelligent,
too cool for the cool kids,
careful, lucky enough
to have the parts that
equate transeunce.

I am:
grumpy when I wake up.
Grumpier when I wake up
to a list of my attributes.
Grumpier still
when the reasoning
is that someone was tired,
when we are supposed
to be carefully writing,
so tiredness shouldn't
be a reason.

New rule: nothing to do
with human sex or love
unless it also has to do
with a donkey or goat.
We're making the rules
up as we go, right? I impose.

Love, Diane