Television Knows No Night

Poems

Oh open window, oh immobility of Nature,
oh spectacle of emotional magniloquence,
oh error about life entirely necessary, oh
Miltonic angels of the subchannel, oh
aspect ratio I’d love you but would fade away,
oh bitrate of energy and spirit oh,
copyrighted catastrophic legions, I found
myself, I found myself praying for you;
I forgot your 20 writers and set designers,
forgot your lines and excellent lighting
I forgot the dozen critics and the blogs,
the pre-release, the torrent, DTT.
I wanted you to be more real than me.

Donate to Poetry London

Be a part of the next 100 issues

To donate, please click on the button below, or send a cheque payable to ‘Poetry London’ to Poetry London, Goldsmiths, University of London, New Cross, London, SE14 6NW, UK.

Donate to Poetry London today

Subscribe to Poetry London

Subscribe today!