Wednesday, November 5, 2008

a tele-vision from election night

frenetic glut
data electric
information-like drops collect
on the screen: the window through which we
see the world - through which we smell and
reality smells like
hot electronics and expanding plastic.


how does paper translate to power?
why did we give our vote away?
A president is a peacock
Why are the poets so dark today?

The news weaves a hypnotic circle, the people are moving images, the numbers a trembling cloud, the ads like children dancing on screen, the mouths are flapping flags, the trees outside are inside the home, the home is a delicate thing, the children a new grip of votes, a dream deferred to a dream, the lights are pixels of corn the corn is growing like midnight oil, time is on Bonody's side, the heart is a box of flowers, Americans eat a new day for breakfast, change is scattered on the street, the poll is a circle red white and blue, words fall off forever but we keep going on and on and on

We want to marry my country
I want to marry something else
I want to marry myself.
I want to be whole again.

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