"TV Brain"
My brain is a television
and my eyes are the screen
I’ve been relayed a message
more minacious than it seems.
A signal has been sent to my head
before I can change to a clearer channel
Connection is poor, I’ve been misled
the snow blowing through feels like gravel.
Thoughts pour vigorously through me
like distorted movie scenes on a DVR
But I can’t decipher a single scene
except the ones where I’m in a car.
I squint through an impenetrable barrier
a kind that’s innocuous, yet I still wince
I play both the audience and the actor
watching from afar as I plummet another inch.
I often wish the universe would let me know
how I got into such a perplexing pinch.
But I lost the remote quite some time ago
and have only had two drained batteries since.