without the telly all I did
was worry a sleep bag
full of wild dreams made
of skinned dogs teeth
dissolved in wine I
need
that
inane voice unctuous
droning my background
cause to cease the scenery
white-out what protrudes
sharp corners all the sly truth
set
to bark the mind
ReplyDeletehow oily the telly is
its banality is unwell
we switch it off