he was intrigued
tabula rasa
and imagined that it was that
thing that appeared on the television screen after midnight
at
the end of broadcasting day when television stations signed off
“. . this is the Seal of Good
Practice . . We at Channel 2 are subscribers to the National Association of
Broadcasters . . assur(ing) you of the high standards for the television
programs designed to entertain and inform you . .”
then a Native American Indians head -- it
seemed an odd choice for a lingering test pattern -- appeared then behind
it played the United States National Anthem
which seemed an
even odder choice
he wondered occurring together if they poked a stick in the eye of Native
Americans or if it subtly documented an emerging sense of entitlement that the Republic
wolfed down with its sugar-coated cereal or bacon and eggs and toast for
breakfast or was otherwise a wiseguys testament to a lively sense of irony or
its black polished patent leather humor
they threw him for a loop
while
no one bothered to hold the end of the lasso or tie it off
at the conclusion of the National
Anthem his favorite part ensued the tabula rasa
the music stopped
the Indian head test pattern held
then soon a piercing high-frequency radio tone
sounded utterly fascinating him
Radio Television were conjoined fraternal twins or a
twinheaded monster
he didnt know
that a good portion of what he saw on television then was repurposed and once
upon a time radio shows
the Philco television
his family stoically watched -- a hand-me-down from an affluent uncle -- was
built inside what seemed a yesteryear wooden radio cabinet its small television screen the actors appearing on it were enlarged by a magnifying glass suspended
in front of the screen
under the rabid tone a granular gray
noise spazzed onto the screen sparkling
then deficient which if he watched concentrated on it long enough something inevitably emerged
and away they run together
shedding feathers behind them with a happy abandon and recklessness
their
bonds and physicality the planets physics stubbornly attempted to deny
and try as he may assured the planet was female he couldnt cajole tempt or seduce her to
forego the arranged marriage she so energetically tirelessly
served seemingly without a braid
of joy
or
perhaps she was a seasoned actress who wore warpaint redolent of a brave
they glared and stood across from
one another at loggerheads
without another choice he defied
her
he danced with the buzzing black
and white pixels the mad crowding hive through the fractures and cracks of what
seemed was a hard durable face
the clean slate
though nothing ever shapes up clean
its
touched and fingered
if one looked hard enough
it exhibited whorls and arches bifurcations
and divergences
and
as with a babes eyes once their eyes
were able to focus
one would be a fool to imagine that inside them it was snowdrifted
a pale bluewhite innocence looking back at you
hed been there once and wondered
What are you looking at
the tabula rasa might be nothing
more than polished glass
1600-ish, Twosday,
3 2. 15
