A Screen Between

A Screen Between

The moldy beard sat down in his chair: "Have a look
at all them colors on the television!"
The words piled up on the opposite wall, heaping fatter than longer
and slightly to the right of the well-dressed screen.
This morning, his aging anger made no difference to me;
he pilfered glances like silverware, took what he could get.

"Let me tell y'all a story now, before y'all forget
'bout your dear old grand-pappy." We leered and looked.
And his smile pressed around us, bondage stronger than television.
He hummed and hawwed for us--stretching little, just a little longer.
We leered still, till he said, "Aha! I'll tell you 'bout the days where the only screen
was the screen door you'd accidentally run through on summer days! Me

and Darby were always whupped for doin' that. . . Well one time, me
and Darby and your grandmaw" his lips stuck out, sucking all the breath that he could get
and stealing all the breath from ours, and without turning my head I tried to look
but all I could do was hear from the television
another elder: "Whoever does not know it and can no longer
wonder, no longer marvel, is as good as dead" said the screen.

"I'll bet you're good as dead!" said the boy. And the screen
sniffed professionally. And grandpa still pinned me
with the sideways A's that were his eyes. "'Don't get
smart with me, George Washington!' I said, and look
what he went and did, got up and led the nation. And television
is not conducive to the independent yeoman farmer image I envisioned!" Longer

still he talked, well into the morning, far longer
than the sun, the golden arches’ pilgrimage around the screen
of clouds that shield us from the ruby, dandelion heat. And he was making me
hungry. I started to try to turn my head and get
away, but then, “and THEN…” he throbbed, and his look
throbbed and pounded larger, taking in the color from the mild-mannered television.

“Now, now, Opie.” said the television.
But I was down to my last resort. “Grandpa, how much longer
are you gonna go on?” And his voice trickled away through his beard. I looked out the screen,
out the window shading us from that bald sun glaring together with my grandpa at me,
but said, “I need to use the bathroom.” And left to check my Twitter, and get
a soda, and eventually we all turned away. “Look,

What’re you gonna get from the television?
Anyone can look at a screen
but you won’t have me for much longer!”

TL:DR

kidding.
The rambling of the grandpa at the start kinda bored me as well the first time through, after the ending, the reinstatement of "You wont have me for much longer" I went through it again.

sad poem but true

what does TL:DR mean?? and the grandpa rambling was originally supposed to be in a very small font so you would just skim over it, but the forum wouldn't let me... I may change it because I know it's extremely long winded.

TL:DR= Too long, didnt read XD but obviously i did

I loved this poem, this hasto be one of my favorite of yours now.

Whoo yaay! =)

not gonna lie, this does seem like the type of poem shane would like

Sorry for the late feed back. I read this several times, but I still can't quite understand the conversation between the boy and the television. I understand that the grandfather is telling a story and it is boring and that the boy wants to get away, and that he hears the TV chime in, but I don't get what the TV chimes in, if that makes sense.

I don't know, it's just a TV. People on tv are always talking.