Imagine
a chimpish, greasy teenage boy sprawled out diagonally
on a boring
sea-foam living room couch,
And he’s just staring
at an old television set, trimmed with brown veneer.
The glossy bubble’s pixels don’t move, but their colors change
like a Chameleon, mixing in the infinite palette, creating the illusion of the program.
And the flat, piercing bad speakers,
from their machined gills are humming, whispering eternal frequencies
But he is staring,
just staring,
with blank eyes.
May 7, 2013
May 7, 2013 at 5:19 PM UTC
Imagine
a chimpish, greasy teenage boy sprawled out diagonally
on a boring
sea-foam living room couch,
And he’s just staring
at an old television set, trimmed with brown veneer.
The glossy bubble’s pixels don’t move, but their colors change
like a Chameleon, mixing in the infinite palette, creating the illusion of the program.
And the flat, piercing bad speakers,
from their machined gills are humming, whispering eternal frequencies
But he is staring,
just staring,
with blank eyes.
