On TV after Dinner

on TV I watch a young father who
has taken out a mortgage on a house on a slope on some distant hills
mornings he wakes up smiling on lightly ruffled sheets, a dream of serenity
satisfaction in his eyes

I watch him exercising in the sunlight on that gently rippling lawn
his shoulder muscles supple, untensed; his breathing relaxed
he has just the right amount of epidermal fat on him. Welcome,
he says. Come
and join us
his invitation is sincere
he flashes a set of sparkling white teeth

I watch another young father drive off in his car to
another far-off hillside
he has a very Chinese face, a very Taiwanese accent
a very Japanese work ethic
and very American consumer habits
he says: Let me give you a word of good advice
This is the perfect choice for you –
although there aren’t any houses on the hillside yet

on TV I see the smiling wife he has chosen
and his altogether too beautiful son
the three of them sit down to
the recommended daily allowance of calories and balanced electrolytes:
I’ll let you in on a little secret
the secret of true love
I lean forward in my seat
he tells me to wash with a certain brand of soap
and to use a new improved toilet paper
now on special

on TV I see a young father who looks a little like me
his hair is trimmed neatly at the back
he radiates confidence
Your shirt is a little creased, he warns me, and the style is out of fashion
You’re a little hunched over, and your mood is negative.
There are flecks of white in your hair, and you have quite a bit of dandruff. on TV
I see
the me I should be, a lover of tidiness
smiling happily and standing in front of a house
I own

You don’t still believe in those old ideals, do you? the man on TV asks me
in the forest of trees on the safety island
an occasional thin mercury streetlight shines
few cars travel the purplish asphalt road:
City, city. Soon you’ll have spread all the way up here . . .
he puffs on his cigarette nervously, a worried look in his eyes
unable to see the distance

on TV after dinner I see
(and finally remember) what the hillside used to look like
the long silvergrass and the patches of cinquefoil
in which a skinny brown kid from the neighbourhood used to hide
leading his buffalo this way
he said: Poverty killed off many of the finer qualities I once had. . . .

yet prosperity has added such glorious miseries
on the TV, I am convinced at this moment
that he has found true happiness –
this citizen of a subtropical island
who is also keen on physical fitness, public welfare, and culture
I feel a deep loathing and admiration for him
like I would for a brother who had grabbed all the family advantages for himself

on the TV after dinner
from block after block of towering high-rise downtown apartments
a succession of young fathers hurries off to dispose
of the day’s accumulated information and emotion
before tonight’s garbage collection
inviolable, this city rhythm – Good evening.
Would you like to own your own home too?
inviolate, this adult destiny. every night
before the garbage trucks show up, all the young fathers rush out

to dispose of themselves

1986

ON TV AFTER DINNER