remember that old television?
it sat there proudly in the living room,
the house’s centerpiece.
it always made that crackling, buzzing sound,
and when it first arrived home
i thought it would give me a headache every time it warmed up,
but over time
those stopped.

the noise became set dressing for our late nights spent
staring at a picture that was offset and
a little yellow around the edges.
composite cables snaked down a wooden table leg,
connecting us
to the newest console of 2003.
it’s all up in the attic now,
the whole set.
the console
collects dust as the disc drive fails.
the composite cables
only work at a certain angle, and now the sound comes out in staticy bursts.
the CRT waits for me loyally. old, clunky,
and never failing
despite its every flaw.


you did not wait as long.
those machines were made to last a couple lifetimes over,
but were we ever?
is that something i could ever hope for
without being a fool?


when i think of your face on late nights,
my reflection staring back at me
from the glossy new HD display in my bedroom,
i imagine it fuzzy and off-center,
a little yellowed at the edges.
a buzzing attaches itself to the background.
if i linger on it for too long,
my head hurts.