A Soulful Song for the Black and White Television
Senility makes
Blackout drift
In front of your eyes
Discarded by all
You sit in the corner
Staring at the wall
Your hunchback
Turned towards the colourful world
Many tried their hands
At breathing life
Into your lifeless picture-tube
But your eyes
Deep set in the sockets
Merely glimmered for a while
And disappeared
You are only a black television now
Awaiting final darkness
But don’t you worry grandpa
I am sitting just next to you
Like a Celeron 133 computer
Opening only ninety-five windows of my mind
Awaiting for obsolesce
To set on me sooner
Than on you
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