I am teething on a future
as thick as a Goodyear
I hold on as it spins
and burns out
creating smoke and mirror finish
I make much ado
about moving in place

I listen to the static
on the stack of TVs
in the back of a Goodwill
Turn your ears to the proper channel
and you’ll hear the whispers
tucked under lo-def signal
Your eyes will adjust to the fuzz