We are like this because the cat was out
and we are happy he is back. We want to be
as comfortable and transparent as our poetry.
Poetry is how we communicate indirectly
and that is finally how everything gets said:
rumors, lessons, memories, with no person there.
Road rage. I don’t flippin care.
The bible. Those people lived a long time ago.
Antigone is older. I know, I know, I know.
You will never confront whom you ought to confront!
You will never say
the meaningful thing to her. We are like this. Everything is far away.
It’s the universal thing: Distance. And eyes.
Even looking—ask the old painter—is disguise, disguise, disguise.