Spatial Awareness

So skirting round the room I see

nought circular but knobs, machine,

for strips, straight lines predominate,

those horizontal on the screen

and vertical, the wall behind.

Two boxes here, but what’s inside?

The lower, trunk, of forest wood,

now layered timber in the frame,

right angles for an even stand,

whatever treasures lie beneath.

The upper storey, other box,

a better view - or maybe not -

conceptual perhaps, art in play;

expensive part of culture wars

to pay top dollar, broke machine?

Kaput, that market, auction lots,

bananas, bricks and sharks in tanks,

skull jewels, Lucy in the sky -

that glitter ring of milky way,

which leads up to the aerial.

Some thought TV doomed from its launch -

not wireless reach, round corners sound

to busy housewives, reading kids;

spectacular, their blinkered view,

as blind what visual aids would do.

This miser’s first, split screen its fault -

the lower half showed broadcast top,

till ‘up with this we will not put’ -

my lodger started to revolt -

’twas Wimbledon, when love match lost.