Broken Tv Revelations

Broken TV Revelations Alone, countless ancient uncles linger in confessional apartments— stare into virgin wombs of empty TV screens, reciting lines from old John Wayne movies. They know the words like pearls cast -- sip communion coffee, swallow mute manna of Wheaties as they trowel moist smoothness of remotes in spattered stone mason hands, plumb-lining life’s purpose. The gods will make it right— resurrect the Duke to his virile glory. For now, sermons suffice— mind’s pictures chiseled into resurrected cocoons, screeding heavenly images like fleshy mortar as they wait the mason and slowly savor the lost teachings of big John’s benevolent fist.