It’s game day and I am walking to Whole Foods
past bars filled with noisy fans gazing at gigantic TV screens
and as I pass the Bradford Beach Club
the crowd inside erupts in cheers.
I quickly surmise that the good guys have scored
but then, five steps further on, another elated (related?) roar
is emitted from the open door
of Hooligan’s Pub directly across the street.
This temporal distortion puzzles me until I theorize
that the Beach Club’s screens are cable fed
while the TVs in Hooligan’s are receiving satellite signals through a dish.
This is just a theory
but suddenly I understand a communication
problem I am having:
me, hard wired for direct input
and her, a concave bowl searching for signals from the stars.
Wonderful, Ed. A really interesting premise.
ReplyDeleteEd,
ReplyDeleteYes I remember the poem. It was one that I liked with the allusion to the timing of the football game to man/woman communication. Bravo. John