Now that we know the opposite can be true:
Your spouse can be a stranger—
You know someone you never talk to—
What are we to say? And what are we to do?
We laugh, but we meant to cry.
We see what we love off to the side of our eye.
But reasonably we focus on what we need to do—
And think: it really is the mundane that’s true.
The movies and the love affairs,
The paintings, the arias and airs,
The smoke of the purple evenings,
The parties tinkling with smiling meaning—
It was all just a bunch of crap.
Plato was right. Give me the guidebook, please. The chord. The map.