The noiseless television assures me that
coverage will begin shortly.
I trust this because my television
has never before lied to me
when it was silent.
Still, I feel challenged this morning
by its flat passive-aggressiveness.
Hasn’t coverage always begun?
Shortly is simply a relativity.
Each time I glance at the screen,
I enjoy a calm reassurance
in the steadiness of the universe.
One thing, at least, adheres to a
amid the chaos which erupts in
climate-induced hurricanes and hate-induced tweet storms,
against the insecurity stoked by
volatile housing prices and collapsing job markets,
among the vague unease cultivated through
our friends’ facebook facades and pristine lawns maintained by immigrants.
Even though I have by now forgotten
which teams are to play shortly,
I smile, content in the knowledge that,
with the sureness of death and taxes,
coverage will always begin.
Poetry Month 2018
I’ve resolved a few times to write a poem a day during the month of April, and I actually succeeded once. I’m again trying it out. No idea what each day will bring. Some light verse, some politics, some “oh shit I didn’t write anything today” haikus. If you read one and feel moved to comment, please do. If you want to share your poetry, please share!
PS: Today’s poem prompt was provided by NBC Sports