Thanks, Matt. I'm glad I was able to open the gates, so to speak. As a matter of fact, he came back this morning against everyone's expectations. I couldn't be happier about that.

I found your poem an interesting read, to say the least. I appreciate the way you use ambiguity so as to foster multiple interpretations. The entire time I was thinking of the Real in the Lacanian sense, even if that wasn't your intention. I love how the viewers use "one voice" to deny the Real, because the ability to command language signifies someone who has not entered the Real and still exists within the Symbolic world. Conversely, when the man is at home toward the poem's end, he almost reminds me of Mrs. Moore in A Passage to India if you've ever read it... alone in thought, appearing almost paralyzed, momentarily lacking the ability to enter into communication. I think your poem suggests that the Real is perhaps something ideal we all hope to find and it gives this man the hope to continue, but I also wonder if there's something deeply terrifying and segregating about entering into the Real. Perhaps the Real has engendered too much fear to allow him to give up.

Ultimately, good stuff.