Veracities

No one ever said anything of any importance during those long, lonely years at the dinner table. Awkward ugly silences filled with talk of pars of roughs of lies as metaphor for truth while discussing this club used in that sand trap or that swing always creating this slice or that bogie as if each item offered legitimacy for life itself instead of thinking or taking part reality sparked their unique shorthand and drowned out veracity as strongly as scotch or gin or failure or even the loss of dreams.