Window screens filter the outside from the within . And they allow what's inside to escape . Daydreams are filtered in our thoughts . Allowing passage between two worlds , physical and not . But window screen daydreams can be trapped by an invisible barrier , a pane of mental glass on the inside or out .

I wear the vale
and it weathers me
in silty slopes
in harsh-cut lines
it lopes off pieces
of my face.
it floods out my marshes
it clears me clean out
and sterile

I wear the vale
and it's worrisome folk
who take up issue.
"You're wearing the vale!
Wearying th' fields
with dead leaves, and dead things.
Don't you tell us
how to live."

Funny, it's not even sublime
how easy it is
to tell me.

My eyes are in pain,
Can’t take them away from you
Keep staring in vain.

Endless static rattles my confined domain
home to voices familiar--
always unwelcome.

Prolonged imprisonment; desperation
yields these chains not of mass.
Mere figments they are.

Are the screens and their unintelligible,
motioned illusions abstract enough
to conjure a new image
to obsess over?

Nay, I remain tranced, ridden
in dismay.  No fulfillment.

Every image I decipher
escapes with the last.

Will trickling like icicles
before summer's Sun.

Subject I forever am to
this sadistic therapy.

I’m too smart to fall in love,
Because let’s face it well all know
It belongs on the T.V. screens
And in between pages
And in thoughts and dreams
And for other people around the world
And for the birds and the bees
And for our parents
And grandparents
And their parents before
And well, just not for me.