The memory of the present releases itself
as television regurgitates the combed surfaces
and chews into our future, making pretty colors

We begin, cogently enough, to see
what is presented on the plate at this pixel-cafe
and before long we are entertained
by the act of being, ourselves, digested . .

The distilled perfection of forms
the seeming access to all things
twines around our will,
quieting the motor of spontaneity . .
the cheerful **** of moneyed hands
tickles and tugs at our imaginations,
You ain’t seen nothing, yet!

The ‘other’ imagination of the world
here in your box of lights
watch it all spin
the laundromat of experience.
clean, dry and folded

Channel-surfing, an old western is found
( a movie character speaks in surround sound: )
“What are you rebelling against, Johnny?
Huh?!  What do you got?”


paul-scofield  10-1-16