Remote Poem by Daniel Y.

TELE-
(Do not push my buttons, please.
I rather dislike your
manhandling,

and the noise.
I cannot control my VOLUME
How fu-nnoying is that?
See, I like it

under the couch,
under the cushions,
under the rug.
The placid quietude of a dark sanctuary.
Yet even more violation

comes from the dog.
Who gnaws
gnaws at my plasti-black body.
My artificial nature

set on a strange grid
with a few colors
and painted symbols.
Always a couple crop circles
say “channel up”
which apparently gives

permission to jab me repeatedly.
I quickly lose my sense of time.
With “fwd” and “rwnd”,
Reruns and old christmas recordings.
Was there ever a time

I was beautiful?)
- VISION