I bathe my television   in total attention   I give it my corneas  

I give it my eardrums   I give it my longing    

In return I get pictures     of girls fighting   and men flying    

and women in big houses   with tight faces   blotting down tears  

with tiny knuckles    Sometimes my mother calls  

and I don't answer   Sometimes a siren    sings past the window    

and summer air     pushes in     dripping with the scent  

of human sweat       But what do I care     I've given my skin

to the TV    I've given it my tastes    In return    it gives me so many    

different sounds     to fill the silence   where the secrets

of my life     flash by like ad space     for the coming season