A hundred of you are hunched
tonight, masked in the blue-light
of the post atomic age.
What age is this?
A hundred of you have opened your eyes
like two holes for the electric blue eels of information
to slide in.
Your teeth glitter the news
when you smile.
I used to think that people who watched television
had no souls, but now I believe they do, and did
all along - my vision of beauty was just not strong
enough to see through the white noise.
A hundred of you tonight are singing
the songs of the dead from your sofa chairs.
In a million part harmony, disconnect.
When did the living learn the songs of the dead?
And with such youthful gusto they sing them!