X-ray television

our sony screen gets no wider
the sound can surround so crisp
but no more salt of the earth
no vinegar bitterness
they tried to do real stuff
but reality
is already
tv

we all go to bed with a hair stylist
wake up with a hairdo
we all show our good sides, our backsides
remain covered
we are mothered by our people
we don't swear
yet we swear we'll do bigger
get on a better stage

we all learn our lines
if we screw up - cut!
there's always a second chance
a take two

don't you
often see denis norden, grinning inanely,
pouring cans of canned laughter
down the drain with
your life, stained with
calamities clocked up,
breaking downs, breaking ups

there is a scriptwriter
a sneering beardy little personal hygiene problem
who doesn't like my character
wants me killed off
or moved to manchester

in the mean time i will stay in his pub
at her majesty's plot convenience
i will continue to pretend not to own
a washing machine

i'll be as predictable as the storyline