Last night for a few minutes
I watched the Republican National Convention
and tuned in to the bums.
As a kid when the TV bathed
my kitchen in light I felt tiny and safe
and knew in my gut we were inconsequential.
But I figured I’d get bigger
and go off to intrude on a changing place
and that my actions would have consequence.
And that I’d never diminish enough
again to fit inside that TV, and that my kind
were not the kind to pop on and off with a little switch.
Now I see I am right back where I began
in a tiny room with a tiny TV watching bums,
feeling smaller than a bum.
Jeremy Sigler’s latest book of poetry, Goodbye Letter, was published by Hunters Point Press.
