Illiterate

Gramophone tracks, you know, are material
copies of electro guitar incandescence,
drum flashes incarnate, real cold piano tissue.
Sounds need the plate to be more than hearable
in our world -- at least a tiny absence
of vinyl. Can your appearance be conditioned
likewise, for comprehension requiring some needle?
Perhaps. Eyesight itself does not make a reader.

Is there a message, I wonder. Might the nature
know only the hardware, your nerves and brain,
blind to what you feel, believe and care about?
Alas, thoughts of you are never matching
yourself -- their abode's a separate plain,
a mirror-walled room. No way in or out.
Brain cortex is a verge, it is the surface whereunder
solid truth gives way to images of non-existent blunder.