Robert Scotellaro

Nothing Good on TV

On the news, flashlights are banging through the trees again—an image they've been showing all week.  Another channel features a recitation of Xed out portions from Hitler's early speeches.  Our dog howls.  On 44 a politician insists his heart is a can of white paint; that all he needs now is a brush.  In the next room, a lackluster apparition pushes my wife's face out of the mirror.  It's been like that lately.  She nuzzles beside me.

On channel 6 forgotten mimes are ranting in the streets.  We kick back, grateful for the silence.