Do you see
how there's always
a veil over things—
a protective film
on the touchscreen;
a haze of steam
on our feelings;
a windshield
between the joyriding
brain and the landscape
of reality?
Try as we might to believe
in our memory
and cry out
to our contemporaries
that we understand their pain,
the truth is
we don't so much
"state the case"
as pray;
the truth is
declaring
what the truth is
makes as much sense
as recounting
last night's dream
in the stark light of day.