The Furniture Faced the Set

We watched snow and wrapped

foil around the rabbit’s

ears lusting for definition.

And if you sat just right

and lifted your leg in the air

sitting next to dad’s chair

and if he didn’t accidentally poke

you with his burning cigarette

then

the picture would be clear

and you’d laugh when prompted

and mom would buy sugary

cereals and dinners prepared in tin

so we could sit and listen and believe

what we were told about

Cuba and

Missiles and the

President’s dead

“he was shot in the head” and

Medgar and

Malcolm and

Martin Luther King

“there goes the dream” and

‘Nam and the

Panthers and the

President lied

“wish he would’ve died” and

hippies and

protests and

love and not war

“what are we fighting for?”

We sat in the living room, the family room,

in the family room, living  – not dying,

and watched the set and didn’t

miss a thing.

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