(In a hotel room in Palm Springs, Calif.)

I had to close the

TV

Into its cabinet

This morning.

I had left it open

All night.

Had angled the

TV

Toward the bed

To watch

People talk

In crackled

Voices

About

The shooting.

So the black

Vacuous

Silent

Screen

Had kept a sort of

Watch

Over me

As I slept in

This stranger’s room.

But this morning

I knew it was

Time

To close the

Black screen

Into its cabinet.

I don’t own a

TV.

For 10 years I have

Lived

Without one.

When I say that to people,

I say it

Gingerly,

I’m not allowed

To have opinions

On most things

Anymore

Most

Especially

Your

TV-watching.

But for me,

The black screen

Doesn’t do much.

I tended to

Cover it

With scarves

And cloths

When I owned one

When it was

Off.

But hotel rooms.

That’s different.

I’m always

Excited

To turn on the

Screen

When I get to a

Hotel room.

And then,

Dismay.

There’s still

Nothing to watch.

I’m not committed to shows,

Or habituated to the

Rhythm

Of the talkers.

I get drawn in,

Of course.

I have a

Human’s

Brain.

But.

But.

Off.

——————–

We’re going to buy a

TV.

The kids clamor for it.

And sports.

We watch sports.

We’ll do it when

The basement’s

Finished,

And put it down

There,

Surround it with

Puffy couches

And ration it

For the kids.

I think I will,

Though,

Drape a cloth

Over the black screen

When it’s

Off.

———————————–

(After writing this entry, I opened the cabinet

And pulled out the

TV

And turned it on.

Naturally.)