Hello, I’m your television-
staring out from eyes of academics,
chefs, cross-dressers, forgotten men,
remembered women; I’ve been animated
watching faces thought secret-
laughter, tears, wrapped rapt,
snoring bored, loving one another,
red with anger screaming at the screen.
The remote control won’t work,
all it does is change my face
and yours too; sun through the clouds
or two little downward turns.