WEBVTT

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Portrait of a poet with
a console TV in hand.

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I bought that TV at John's TV
on College Avenue in San Diego

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and lugged it all the way
home on the Greyhound bus.

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Sitting in Phoenix bus
depot waiting room,

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TV sitting on my
lap, I felt foolish

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as I watched depot
officials grab an old man

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derelict as he searched
dazedly into an open locker

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compartment.

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They pushed him reeling out into
deadly stunning American city.

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At 12:30 AM, there
wasn't anything else on,

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just that already too
late late channel.

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I had known that I
would be coming home

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but the TV in hand bit
was an entirely new angle.

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And I think that it must have
to do with a new odd madness.

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