The gorilla sat in his living room,
Ignoring the rampaging children,
Tired after a long day of modeling
For the cameras.
The T.V. in the corner shouted
The humanity of humans, of conservation
When the news interrupted
Shouting of Twitters, long and loud.
They hadn’t let him vote,
Although he had watched the debates.
He had formulated a plan,
To repatriate his species.
Back in the jungles, where
He was born. They should have
Let him vote. But he was mute
To the signs he needed for
His hands to speak out. Compassion was
Cruel, he thought, to let so many
Of the tired humans slave
And lose their security. After all those years.
He watched his son and daughter
Hanging upside down from tire swings,
His wife climbing high to get to school.
Dinner was to be served soon. He was the sitter.
What was it that made human’s
The top of the food chain?
That left him in the shackles
Confined by man’s curiosity?
Curiosity still existed for him.
The wild still called him.
He mumbled a prayer for the so-called Masters
Who could dissolve the world in fire and rhetoric.
Anger erupted on the telly, more yelling
Disgusted, he stood and strode
Straight to monster machine, reaching for the remote
That empowered images, that brainwashed,
Of violence perpetrated on with fists at the
The human caged. Exhausting. Calming he turned sadly, switching
The channel to PBS, the public challenge,
The overview of the world. Change?
Democracy Now, the Warren Report, on
Expounding Columbia’s freeing the higher thinkers.
His brother! Kept in a zoo, now free. Their constitution.
Perhaps “they” would be allowed to vote.
He snorted in humor and settled
Back into his repose. These silly dreamers.
One of his infants smacked the back of his
Head and the infants outside giggled.
He reached and tumbled with his
Small daughter, letting her win,
Only to be beset by his son, babysitting,
Bouncing both on his arms.
Maybe there was hope. He had waited so very long,
The bouncing children pushed the remote buttons, changing sadness
To Sesame Street. Watching other children be children.
He was grateful to see them so engaged
With other infants, growing in a wild world of uncertainty.
Their time would come. They would visit and wonder
At the peace his family gave him. Secure together.
Finding a way to keep them all close.
6 thoughts on “Watching Television in a Plastic Cube”
Have you listened to, “Amused to death” by Roger Waters. In case progressive Rock isn’t preferable, I believe you should atleast look at the lyrics, they are on the same theme. A gorilla flipping through TV.
Love that piece!
Great, me too. 🙂
Would you mind if I ask whether this particular poem was inspired by that??
It was inspired by a children’s book called The Gorilla Made Me Do It.
The book has no words only pictures, and I feel for the Mom. I feel for us all in the US right now. For the gorilla in the National Zoo. For Amused to Death as well.