A Sonnet – not Shakespearian – to

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what?  Of what shall I write?  A sonnet - a song of praise - a paean to – a burst of joy about – exactly what?  Maybe babies – they’re cute, after all – or maybe to a butterfly – who doesn’t love butterflies?  Well, that suggests I go for the unlikely - a sonnet to the turkey buzzard?  Ben would approve, no doubt.  Maybe to politics and pundits.  Or bad daytime television - that’s it!  Bad daytime television - here goes . . .

1 There’s a place to which I aspire – if you will, a summit
2 the very peak of civilization – television in the daytime
3 I step into the land of the remote and my IQ begins to plummet
4 as I settle in to watch game shows, soaps, and all sorts of visual grime

5 restaurants at war and cooking gone bad
6 syndicated reruns I’d never waste a minute on after 8
7 houses oh, so so, desired, but not had
8 lovers, mothers and brothers spewing hate

9 whether Jennifer’s baby belongs to Brad or to Sam
10 whether this one or that knows where Canada is
11 whether it’s true love – or a scam
12 whether the bad-boy beau will break a chair or walk off stage in a tizz

13 Another day’s gone and I find I’m late
14 for my own life – off the couch with me – it’s a date!

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This bit of silliness is the result of my playing around with poetic forms.  The doggerel reflects time I’ve spent totally wasted – mindlessly – watching daytime television.