Television is a portal,
An image of light,
Creating a reality
Or so it’s called.
The channels are spirals
From everyday into glamour.
The box is a doorway
Into the homes of others
Allowing ourselves to abandon
Our own synthetic home.
The words and voices are gates
Into the minds of others,
So we can have an excuse
For the absence of ours.
It’s all a portal,
Into a land not our own.
Copyright 2004 aNaRcHyPoEt
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