You sit with eyes glued to the screen <br />watching a little beam <br />in a box <br />that talks. <br />Your eyes go perpendicular <br />and a haze comes over you <br />the TV madness has got through. <br /> <br />The haze then forms into shapes <br />of Coronation Street and Ben Casey <br />as an operation begins on Ena by Kildare <br />while the Invisible Man sits unnoticed in a chair. <br />When the TV goes funny, <br />you hit it like hell <br />afraid of missing Alf Garnet’s famous yell. <br /> <br />Then comes The Man In The Suitcase <br />who has such a squeeze <br />and is nearly blown away <br />by a Laurel and Hardy sneeze. <br />The posh blundering Avengers are back once more, <br />but need help from The Man From Uncle to open the door. <br /> <br />After this tumbling torso, you see, <br />you turn into a schizophrenic like me, <br />with perpendicular eyeballs <br />pink and blue stripes on your chest. <br />Don’t go to the Doctors, <br />as there is no cure for TV madness. <br /> <br /> <br />Date Written Unknown<br /><br />David Harris<br /><br />http://www.poemhunter.com/poem/early-works-tv-madness/
