The television has changed its clothes
as though it were a holiday--I mean a sacred occasion.
Its collar is pressed, primped & proper
& it is standing on a black, tuxedo-striped pillar.
Last night--just last night--it was swilling beer,
telling ribald tales & lurid jokes,
& shooting billiards (badly) in torn Levis®.
Today, we pressed it to repeat the one
about Pam's Enormous TitsTM
because Jonah hadn't heard it.
But today, television just looked @ us
as though we were being vastly inappropriate.
We stared right back @ the big hypocrite
& saw its eye falter.
Then it just shuffled, embarrassed,
& kind of whined, "Not right now, okay, fellas?"
Television turned to address serious matters
in an utterly tactful way.
Television spoke with frowns, "grave & stern decorum,"
"grim, ungainly, ghastly, gaunt & ominous."
Today's topic: Tact.
Tacticians. Tactics. Statistics. Tactile.
Facts. Fictions. Rank & File.
Television will not play today.
The high collar chafes, but
Teevee's daddy sits heavy on its head,
set to tell it what must be said.