Saw it

I saw it on the television, the last time I watched the
news (I don't switch on much: the slowness of the dial). My tv is brown
rimmed. Back to where I began; after I knew, through disjointed picture
without sound (the speaker was broken), or didn't know, it began to
rain, and I watched molten drops melting the trees outside. It was so
new, images twisted, give water to starving children, keep me clean.

Sometimes I saw it again, in my mind, gradually the
people growing grainy as if I had a miniature screen in my head and the
colour was going, the film wearing out.

As I said, I
don't switch the television on much, I don't care to learn what I'm not
supposed to know. So I watch constantly now, or I sleep, dreaming of
the first people.

saw it on the television, and
never after that did I want to see those colours again, but somehow the
story became addictive, the strong violence. I became a vehicle which
was a pounding song in my head.

There was no blood,
that was not why I was drawn to it, I spent minutes touching my fingers
together. It wasn't sad, it was exultant, I reveled in chaos, although
I knew I shouldn't.

There was something surreal in
the subtle broadcasting: such ecstasy of pain.

It
was the last time I looked at the world in such an unguarded way.

I saw it on the television and it has slept in my
mind since then, all around, like snow.