channels 5, 6 and 3
I like Channel Five,
its pleasant glow, engaging at daytime—quick, vivid, bright—
and a warm immersion of soothing semi-inspiration at night.
I turn sometimes to Channel Six, mostly in late evening,
but it’s all image, no words, silent picture, one dimension.
Channel Four and Nine? Seven and Two?
Boring. I ignore them, flip past,
not beholden as so many.
No: I like Channel Five.
On Channel Five I watch and listen closely, follow each
word carefully,
almost obsessively,
to find the hidden gems, those things I look for when I watch the TV box.
I call it meaning.
Sometimes when I listen—and I mean really listen—
they seem to say “Turn to Channel Three,” which is interesting,
because that isn’t their channel. It’s someone else’s.
Once I gave in and turned to Channel Three,
noticed immediately it required far too much.
Channel Three has a big red sign in the right corner,
bright white it says “Pay attention,” and the homeless speak,
the boring and stupid chatter, the lonely regale.
One show was a woman crying. Red eyes, puckered cheeks and sobs.
“Pay attention.” I watched her heaving shoulders and thought,
“She looks familiar. I may have passed her today,”
and I turned back to Channel Five.
