I've been staring at the ceiling
all night, counting knot holes
in the pine wood and the
way streetlight glares
in the shadeless window pane,
making each slight strand of
spider webbing shiver
just so on silver breeze
and then collapse
it's span between old Cornish detail
and the cable wire
spooled in the corner
where the installer left it
years ago
before there was
such a thing
as having
500 hundred channels
and nothing to watch.
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