Poem About Digital TV

Two slow silver shining ticks of awe,
The old coal company bores a tunnel,
Through the birthday cake,
Light studiously avoiding every place,
Where the frog landed,
A silent army of concrete tractors,
Half of which sport their elevation,
As proudly as a boy with his new turtle,
Come back to bed! purrs the fiancee,
With the charm of an oily snake,
Wrapped around a tin can,
There’s too much fur to flush it all down the toilet,
And there’s only so much you can take,
She cries a stream of pills back into the bottle,
A young girl takes his arm, and later puts it back with the rest of him,
Beady ears bob like a cat’s on the bough,
A bomb at the fishery,
Disturbs the game at match point,
Policemen screech up with their windows down,
Laughing half-drunk bottles peel their labels off,
And fornicate in the shadows,
A grandmother has her second daughter killed,
And something cold happens to the sky,
No one must ever see my nob!!