To My Homeless Freshman Comp Student

I’m sorry for feeble
resources offered up like
sacrament through a process
paid for by your dues. Trusting
someone on the other end 
has you covered. My thin
sentiments of hope 
cheap sunglasses to shield 
you from atomic 
blasts. At home I wonder
if that’s you
hiding under blankets 
in the frayed tent
I so quickly step
around. Is it that you
in the car conjured out
of tape and rust
huddled in the back
of the Walmart lot? Do
the people catching
their bearings in the RV
hulking next to you ever
offer anything?  

What can you care 
of introductions or
conclusions
--weak sentence structure,
passive verbs—
when you’re stuck
in the here, the glaring
right now. Nodding off 
in our bright, cool
classroom, trying
hard to understand
my question. Knowing
I don’t have any
solution at all.