"In Reverse"

8 out of 10 American homes

eat meals while watching TV.

The days of sharing our adventures at recess,

tales from the office,

or our latest doctor’s appointment

are like episodes from a 1950s sitcom,

polite, black-and-white, and buttoned-down.

But here at the pub

is the home in reverse.

TVs surround me on the ceiling, on the walls, at the bar.

TV sound is only on in the bathroom.
I can't even pee without Donald Trump yelling at me.

But in the bar we fight a muted war on ISIS, 

Isaiah Thomas' latest 4th quarter jump shot
falls silently through the net before open-mouthed fans,

and flies buzz soundlessly around a refugee's face.

All silenced in favor of pub cacophony –

that great brew of businessmen tired from endless meetings,

hitting on the young, equally tired waitress,

housewives grateful for a break from Elmo

and retirees between doctors appointments and the golf course,

all accented by pictures of news-anchors,

diving outfielders, and men gesticulating in front of large maps,

like a schizophrenic silent movie

playing side by side with the plot of our real lives.