My remote control taunts my mortal sloth
Pale light pulses, pulling me like a moth
Such a vast plethora beckoning me
Urging to decide what I long to see
I’ve got cop dramas to test my mettle
Cooking shows to inspire my kettle
Sporting events to tackle my spare time
Or dark sci-fi flicks spewing viscous slime
Game shows and rodeos can rope up greed
News scripts concocted to force a stampede
Travel shows touring streets of dead cities
Perhaps senate and house subcommittees
Cartoon madness might play to tickle me
Maybe sitcoms could work to pickle me
Animal shows and bridezillas abound
My mind still pictures a betrothed bloodhound
Those reality shows cause me to itch
Never mind-I think I’ll hit the off switch
This poem has not been translated into any other language yet.
I would like to translate this poem