Sunday, February 01, 2009

Universal, Remote

I have an hour-45-minute commute to and from work every day. Initially, I somewhat enjoyed staring out the window, learning the New Jersey country/town-side. That "excitement" got expended after a couple of weeks.

Then I bought a little notebook to carry with me, thinking, "Hey! I'm a writer! I'll make notes!" Yeah. No.

I ain't gonna write about the utterly stilted polite conversation we bus-mates have daily on our company-sponsored bus that takes us to the suburbs of Jersey. The trek and the conversations are killin' me, but... I AM GRATEFUL FOR WORK SO I SHALL NOT COMPLAIN. There.

I will say, however, that a title and first line of a poem came to me last week while on the bus (thinking about a present that I was going to buy Miss Sandra and about our distance, both physically and mentally, from each other):

We were flippant through channels


I started mentally going on from there, but was coming up with trite cable stuff related to the "Discovery" channel et al., so I quit.

Did, though, think of something I jotted down years ago, after reading that the static that we now see on our TVs in between channels is actually left over from THE Big Bang that created THE universe...

Here was a blank thing, black thing, blanker
than the static remnants of the Big Bang
hovering in TV fuzz---ancient radiation
caught between our stations

It KILLS me that I can't sustain the above thoughts... The fact that the Big Bang remnants are now static on our television stations... That is extremely profound...

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