Question Marks

Did I have some plan?
I don't think so,
your names all look alike, just like you all look
alike, innocuous or ignorant, does it matter?
Fate, or failure? Destiny or disappointing?
Does it matter? Is it matter?
Is there matter in antimatter? Is there stuff
in all this,
stuff?
I don't know.
But what is it I see in you, what is it I read
in you,
where, when did I learn to read
people, like books,
I wish I read, a little more often.
Do people have pages?
What if I want this book to go on forever?
I'm getting sick
of all these
question marks.
What's a question mark in Chinese, anyway?
Mandarin, Cantonese, whatever.
I don't even know if you're Chinese.
I'd like to think so, apparently,
but I'd also like to think that you could understand
every single word of this,
every gist, every supposedly-poetic notion
that I'm so reflexively throwing at you.
Catch?
Did I miss the mark?
Or was it just another question?