A computer voice rounds his Os,
turns harsh degrees on Ts, pronounces
the world just like a real man would,
like a real person whose job he stole,
a real person with a mouth and teeth
and children -
The computer voice cannot pronounce
"Jose Delugas", comes up instead with "Hose Dell You Gas",
but no one is listening enough to be insulted,
Jose Delugas probably isn't listening, just watching
CNN, engulfed in a world where Brad Pitt has Jury Duty,
a woman in Pennsylvania has strangled a rabid raccoon to death,
and a monster truck has run over a crowd,
or just watching the grey squares of rug
which blur away when he loses focus, and sing
into perfect detail when he concentrates.
The TV is a running hum on the back of his neck,
and "Sex tapes of the Stars" sounds more to him
like the erotic mixtures of gases, far away,
swaying in tune to each other,
than some blond-haired movie star thrusting his pelvis.
2 comments:
Dear Ruth,
Once upon a time in the distant future. me and you will be experiencing this unsightly scene together in a terminal bound for Rome. You will be making pretty observations in your pretty little book, with a pretty pen, with your pretty handwriting. While I will be sitting in my pretty little seat making pretty little sweat marks that soaks my shirt, praying to whatever spirit will listen to make the next 7-8 hour flight a safe one.
i look forward to it.
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