I got down to the wire today. The combination of exhaustion and a mental empty tank was lethal. It took some doing, but I coaxed a couple of weirder poems from my brain. This one is a sort of reply to another poem that I read today. I get poems sent to my inbox during National Poetry Month and particularly liked this poem and came up with what you see below.
Like Any American Obsession
(after Brynn Saito)
My television and I are going to break up soon.
I know it's coming. She doesn't captivate
me anymore. She's repeating the same tired
ideas with different faces. There are only
so many weight loss shows you can watch.
After eight o'clock, I reminisce a little with
Monk reruns and Bobby Goren episodes of Criminal
Intent, but then she flips to televangelists
and ads for Hip Hop Abs, and I'm sorry, but I'll
never have a Rockin' Body. She's trying to make
me into something I'm not. That's why I hide
in the office. The internet lets me do what I want,
lets me mindlessly slip into catatonia, doesn't
ask for too much, doesn't care if I want to eat
a red velvet cupcake in front of her. It always
knows what I want, tells me how to order it.
I clean its cache and it lulls me to sleep at night.