Though human lips do not deliver them,

Nor paper envelopes conceal their faces,

Words of strangers crowd my inbox daily:

Unsolicited advice for debt

Relief and male enhancement; credit scores

And super deals from one-eight-hundred-flowers;

Christian singles seeking harmony

And mothers making millions staying home.

My expectations rise and fall each morning

While I sort and sift through digital

Debris. I disregard by subject line.

My name is Jonathan, not Jeremy!

These messages no sooner sent than dead—

Delete! They’re doomed to die before they’re read.

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