2 TVs



thank the peaceful

quiet



my girl and dog

rest quietly

upon cushions

in the top rooms



I'm down here

in the white light

of the cellar pit,



carpeted clearing,

cool drywall

abode



down here

one TV

mutely plays



another

chatters loudly

above me



the world's gone to Hell



so any clarity of mind

must be precious

reckoning



here,



the faint marking

of renegade insanity



fuels the souls

of innumerable

invisible

mannequins



invariably sequestered here



8 feet under

the earth

with me



glass beings

plainly bearing

enigmatic stripes

of madness,

forgiveness



hashmarks in blood,

feline declinations,



attendant only

upon my need

to discern



huge saccharine music

suddenly swells

in the stairwell



one more

horrible TV show

playing out



where my sleeping girl rests



pausing,

not typing



I turn emptily

to the mute portal

behind me



TV

can't quite quell

all the substance



down here,

my implacable figures



do not care