THE TELEVISION AGE

NBC presents the following program in color:

They sat affixed,
captive receiver
flurry of images
anesthetizing frequencies
awash in the perversities of life.
Their paralytic shock distilled
into nominal waves…
becoming less than zeroes and ones.
Emotions out of focus.
Soul of desire on remote control.

Not even the static of thought re-channeled,
all perspectives fair, balanced and impartial
skewed in postmodern pop-friendly clichés:
the forgotten spender
saturated in market share
consumer distilled into ratings
spent,
drained,
bemused…
amused no more.
If only they possessed a nerve of intelligence,
they might get up and change the channel.

It’s eight o’clock –
Do you know where your children are?