A lesser mind

How could she find herself within length of grasping,
so close to touching she knew, the landmarks, the faces, the words,
the avante-garde nook on historic boulevard upon famous general's river under the shadow of......some gothic cathedral,
she knew nothing.
she knew an assortment of pixels,
freshly pressed ink, placidly immobile in her lap.
Sometimes they danced across the canvas of a dull unthinking screen,
flailing in agony, writhing in fury, beaming in fully varnished glory,
drinking in pleasure,
But the people did not speak to her.
They spoke to the man with the camera, to some rather-be-screwing-my-mistress doer of great things, and, in the habit of regretful and helpless misfortunates,
often enough they spoke to themselves.
Everything she knew of their worlds was filtered, typesetted, formatted, pre-arranged,
the good accentuated, the bad and the ugly obscured or left out entirely.
Therefore it was of great concern to her,
that the cities and countries of her education,
upon encounter,
would materialize themselves in entirely unexpected, unpredictable ways.
She would not speak the right words,
with accuracy identify each place, know of each person.
For all of her protestations at great lengths of a limited existence,
discovery and the unknown were the least she desired when meeting the world.