Reruns

I live my life by watching it all pass
In thirty minute increments—in shows.
I'm feeling tired from sitting on my a**.
I don't go outside. I've heard fresh air blows.
I'm encapsulated and contained by my chair
In a world scripted and superficial:
Mem'ries manipulated for a stare,
Pixelated by blocks of commercials.
What I see is what I want… maybe not.
I prefer to watch… oh, I like watching
My melting brain cryogenic'lly caught—
Now, no more are the baby thoughts hatching.
Instead, I repeat myself in reruns,
An endless cycle of prepackaged fun.

I'd change the word if not for the rhyme scheme.

poem by Tim Stensloff
Submitted by Poetry Lover
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