You’d feel better if you understood the
veil’s real. They try to hide it, but nothing
substitutes for knowing. I swear hate can
flip from a hail of stones and bottles to
a sincere inquiry as to the health
of your family. We limp one day, sprint
the next, think about flying while we’re sprawled
on the ground, slow to appreciate that
one can soar while flat on his back – two scenes
at once, what’s meant by the veil – here and some
where. The afternoon yawns as if we lived
in a country where commerce stops for three
hours in the middle of the day, the schools
closed, noon meal about to be served, while boys
make their way down the banks to the river
to investigate what fell from the bridge.