This life
By late night static
Is the reason
My dreams bleed neon
With a laugh track
Waiting on couches
Where reality sits
Left behind

From feeling again
Before bed
That warm colored glow
Over channels
Catching glimpses there
Of each memory
Missing names
How Friday had tapes

By forgotten waves
Nearly lost
I’m believing now
Are those evenings
Caught between shows
Always canceled
For programming blocks
Still awake

Only analog worlds
Understand
Like commercial breaks
Never ending
When selling us toys
Seemed so easy
Against simple needs
Dearly missed

Hearing heroes die
Going live
Through modem noise
Learning language
And agreeing hell
Was nostalgia
Staying relevant
Even if cursed

Since remembering
Hurts even more
Than expired joy
Turning stagnant
Or its background hum
Going silent
As reruns play
After 10.

• J. Pigno